


What if you found me

by lokixjanesupportress



Series: What if... [2]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:57:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokixjanesupportress/pseuds/lokixjanesupportress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane reflects upon her days in Asgard and the events that led to her banishment. She thinks she knows all the consequences. Until one winter's night. Post-Avengers. Lokane prompt fill. Sequel to "Words cannot".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It seems like my dear muse Lupin wants more. Here it is. I own nothing.

" _What if you found me?"_

* * *

Jane watched the mist of a breath leaving her mouth and dissipating into the cold, bright night. The snow-covered grounds reflected the moon and the stars, glittering silently, peacefully. The landscape around her had gone to sleep long hours before. There was no movement, no sound to disturb this graceful slumber. Tall spruces were guarding and decorating the path up the small hill, towards her new home. They stood there magnificent and still, their branches bowing under the weight of the glinting snow. The small garden around the house slept as well, the lawns and patches buried under the white cover. And surrounded by all this quiet beauty, stood her modest house. It was made mostly of wood, the outer walls painted dark shade of red, the window frames white.

The small porch before the main entrance was one of her favorite places to linger for a while. She sat there in the summer afternoons, reading books, revising papers or just listening to the sounds of nature. And it was her shelter during the sleepless winter nights, when the loneliness crept closer.

It felt relieving and kind of refreshing when the SHIELD had first moved her to their research base in Norway. And she had hoped to feel this relief after returning from Asgard, but it was harder this time.

Before, she had had something to cling onto. The hope that her Asgardian prince would come for her as he had promised. But what was there for her now? She had been banished, and abandoned for good.

Yes of course, she used to have a regular, perfectly normal life once. Something she would love to return to. Well, if the mess of a life of an unusually skilled astrophysicist girl could have been considered "normal". But it had been something she would love to return to. Why not? She used to be pretty happy like that. No need to worry about the realms somewhere in the deep universe.

Back then, she just used to watch the distant worlds, she used to fantasize about them. She could imagine them as she wanted them to be. But now it was different. She had been given this opportunity. She travelled amongst the stars. She witnessed the unknown beauty of a place light-years away. However, too soon she had learned that this realm had not been just about wonders. It was about cruelty and suffering, too.

She embraced herself at the sudden blow of a cold breeze. Straightening the collar of her long coat, she hung her head _. Perhaps you should retreat to the house, Jane. It is extremely cold. Yes, you have a coat and snow boots on, but there's still just a nightgown underneath it._

Wrapping the coat tighter around her body, she straightened and turned to leave. But then, she stopped mid-turn and assumed her previous position, leaning against the wooden column.

She could not just turn and go to bed. She knew she would see him. Again. His wrists scraped, torn up to the flesh. His pale, wretched body, starved to the bone, covered in sweat and old, clotted blood. His lips and eyelids sewn shut with a wire. His silent lamentation, and the tears running down his sickly pale cheeks. And the giant serpent looming over him, the venom dripping, slow and unforgiving, from the enormous fangs.

No, there had been no other option. She must have helped him. She must have done something, anything...

And now she was there. Back on Earth, with no possibility and no intentions to return.

But she missed him. Thor.

Did she still love him? She could no longer tell. But she would love to see him at least once again. Maybe to say some reassuring words, an apology… Something.

 _What are you possibly doing now? What is anyone else in Asgard doing right now?_ She sighed. _What is he doing right now..? What happened to him after I had left? Did they accuse him of a rebellion against his punishment? Did they punish him even worse? Instead of me? Is he still alive at all?_

Too many questions, and no answers to be found.

_No, Thor would not allow it. He would defend Loki even if it meant going against Odin. He would keep Loki alive. And eventually, he would save him. He would. Surely._

But those thoughts she forced in her mind would not stop her heart from sinking. She forced herself to imagine him free again. How he would look like. How his eyes would look like in the daylight. They must give him that last chance. They have to let the sun shine on him once more. They cannot let him starve and die in the dark dungeon. No…

Jane wondered if he would ever get to know who had visited him in his prison cell. And if he knew, what would he think? What if he came to Earth? _And what if he found me?_

Jane looked up with an unspoken plea on her lips. The cold wind pinched her wet cheeks. The stars seemed so bright. And so close. Closer than ever.

_Please… Live._

She bit on her lower lip and held back any further tears. And then, Jane looked back at the tiny garden, at the snow-covered path.

At first, her heart stopped with shock and horror, but then, eventually, started beating again.

Down the path, a few feet away from her, stood a tall man in dark clothes, green cape moving lightly with the breeze. His hair was shoulder long and black as a raven. His skin was pale and the green of his eyes twinkled brightly in her way.

Jane stood still, petrified on her spot, as he made a few steps forward, closing the distance between them. A large snake's fang was hanging around his neck. Jane reached out and touched it. And at once, she felt that jolt of pain shooting through her wrist and forearm.

Never tearing his eyes off her, he took her hand and pushed the sleeve up, just slightly, to reveal the old scar. The bite-mark. And as soon as he found it, he did not hesitate and pulled her hand up to gently cover the scar with his lips.

And he did not need to say anything else.

He lived. And he did not need to explain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my dear, understanding friends Lupin and Alex (aka ketsudan and allinye on tumblr)

_"We love the stars. More than we fear the dark."_

* * *

Jane took a last, hungry bite of her sandwich before gulping some more tea. _Oh Jane, look at you. Struggling to be the first one in the grocery? Again?_

Well, yes. _Before all the folks walk in and seize all the freshly baked bread and cakes. Yes, precisely._ She persuaded herself while putting on her thick white winter cap. _You had better think of bakery goods than random gods raiding your imagination._

_Real or not, he's gone, dear. Please, cope._

Trying to fight off the uneasiness building up deep in her throat, she coughed lightly, wrapped the scarf around her neck, took the keys and avoiding the look in the mirror, she went straight toward the door. Releasing slowly the breath she had been holding, she grabbed the doorknob and pulled.

And after swinging the door open defiantly, all her courage deserted her and left her standing stiff and completely paralyzed.

Long raven hair, the ends curling up slightly, were covered in frost and adorned with white snowflakes that flickered in the morning light, shining and twinkling like stars on the pitch-black sky. The heavy, dark green cape was hanging down silently, completely still and sprinkled with snow, too.

The curled hair-ends moved, brushing the green cape beneath them, indicating he was turning his head slightly to reveal his profile. A long-lashed eyelid blinked once.

"You were… I mean –" Jane tried. And failed. At least she managed to lean her hand against the doorframe.

He turned around fully, the green fabric of the cape moving about swiftly and soundlessly. And the daylight glittered in the green irises as it poured over his face.

"I didn't know –" She began once more.

"Obviously." He said. There. The very first word from his mouth. The very first time Jane heard Loki Laufeyson's voice. And it was just… Unbelievably light and delicate: his tone so soft it felt like floating in the air.

It was not an actual smile on his face; however, his features indicated something dangerously close to amusement.

But she smiled for real. Jane could not stop the corners of her mouth from jerking into a grin.

"I thought you had left." She admitted, dropping her look.

This time he smiled. A simple, wordless answer.

"So... Are you tired? Or hungry?" Jane asked then.

"Neither of it." He replied simply.

"Oh." She nodded.

"It appears you are leaving..?" Loki asked after a nervous moment.

"Yes – yes I am. Need to do some shopping." She said and tilted her head, curious. "Want to come with me?"

"Of course." He agreed, offering another soft, heart-warming smile.

* * *

Awkward.

That was the only word replicating itself in Jane's mind as they drove through the beautiful and still Saturday morning, down the snowy way to the small town.

Yes, awkward. And strange. Definitely.

He sat peaceful and quiet. A patient beholder. The winter-nature admirer. The silent force. The hidden rage. The destroyer. Invader. Killer… Sitting right beside her, looking outside the window, watching the sceneries passing by. Peaceful and quiet.

She let go off the gas pedal slowly as they approached the desired grocery. _Yeah, easy, Jane. No brake, this is snow all around and beneath the tires._ Yes, she had to focus on driving and parking the car. No time for conversation with any aliens nearby.

She yanked slightly forward as the vehicle came to a halt. Then she tried a look at her passenger. He was smiling lightly; but that little roguish glint on the corner of his eye could not have hoped to escape her notice.

"What is it?" She asked, one brown eyebrow climbing up.

"You."

"Hm?" she inclined her head in question.

"You seem to be very focused on everything you do." He stated calmly, quietly.

Jane shrugged, looking outside. "I think everyone has to concentrate when driving on snow. Regardless if they're a man or a woman." She added promptly.

"Certainly." He blinked instead of nodding his head, looking a bit unfamiliar with the previous statement's meaning.

"So, uh -" She exhaled. "I'll have to go. I guess you'll stay here?"

"Should I?"

"Well, you can come, but…" she waved her hand, gesturing at his appearance, and lowered her eyes. "I fear we may stir some panic like that." She murmured, smiling to herself.

"Oh." he sounded in understanding. "Then what about this?"

"What?" Jane asked and looked up. And forgot to close her mouth for a moment.

* * *

Jane stopped, startled, and looked over her shoulder as soon as she realized he was not following her. And then let out a relieved breath as she spotted him right behind her. Curious, he was leaning over a freezer cabinet.

And again, Jane had to marvel at his disguise. Now clad in a very fashionable, beige winter coat, his long hair rubbing the collar in the form of thick, fair curls, his eyes soft and blue like the bright sky that morning, he looked nothing like the person a while before.

Yes, the difference was very significant, however, in a sense, it was still him. Still intriguing and pushing her curiosity. And still unearthly beautiful.

"What?" She sidled up to him, offering a teasing smile. "Should I take some ice-cream?"

He looked at her sideways. "I am just figuring out if it's worth tasting. I presume it is basically flavored crushed ice?"

"Well –"

"We have the same in Asgard." He added before she could answer properly.

"But I'm afraid it is _not_ the same." Jane objected, enjoying her temporary advantage. "What you are speaking about is called shaved ice here. Ice cream is with milk, you know. I like it better."

"Milk?" He asked, raising one eyebrow in a rather suspicious manner.

"Or cream. It is very…" She continued, leaning over the box with frozen goods as well. "Ha." She smiled roguishly. "Do you have chocolate in Asgard? Or vanilla?"

"I am not aware of such things."

"Okay." She giggled, and opened the freezer box. "Then prepare yourself for the best dessert you have ever tasted." She claimed, full of confidence, while putting chocolate and vanilla ice-cream into the shopping basket. Then she checked if she hadn't forgotten anything from her list and headed to the cash desk, pretending not to take notice of all the questioning stares at her companion and sideways glances and knowing smiles aimed at her.

* * *

Jane hung her head and listened carefully, just a step before the entrance to the living room.

No sound.

And then, a barely audible rustling noise of a page being turned. She smiled softly and made a step forward, just to appear in the doorway.

"I'm sorry to interrupt…" she uttered a sound, leaning against the doorframe. He looked up from the book he was holding, his now straight, raven hair moving behind his shoulder.

"The lunch is ready."

"I see." He said and stood up to follow her. "And although the poems I was reading were truly delightful, I would not call a meal made by you an interruption."

"Thank you." She grinned when reaching the small dining table in the kitchen. "I, um – I'm not sure if this is how you are used to have your lunch, but –"

He viewed her, curious.

"Of course not, I know." she murmured, leaning her arms on the backrest of her chair and glanced at the table. There were two simple white porcelain plates with roast salmon and vegetables. Then stainless steel forks and knives, finely folded serviettes, two wine glasses and a glass jug of pure water.

"I'm not used to drink wine for lunch," Jane resumed quietly, "but if you prefer -"

"Miss Foster, I admire your ability to make the meal enjoyable in every way possible without any need of shiny gold and unnecessary opulence. I shall be very delighted to share this lunch with you."

"Oh." She bowed her head to hide the smile of relief and a slight blush. "Then I hope you'll like it."

"If it tastes as good as it smells, I am quite certain." He stated as they both took their seats.

 _Well, you might have been nervous while preparing this, but you have most definitely outdone yourself_ , Jane mused after swallowing the first mouthful. And observing his appreciative smile, she assumed he might have been thinking quite the same.

However, as soon as they immersed into consuming their meals, she could not hide from the continuous battle raging inside her mind. She wanted to ask so many things. The questions had piled up inside her and were threatening seriously to overflow the metaphorical dam soon. But how? How was she supposed to ask? How was she supposed to start any dialogue at all? He was so silent, mysterious and closed the entire time. It had Jane wondering as to how he could have earned the Silver Tongue nickname for being so silent? Or better yet – what had made him keep to himself like that?

Was it because he found her uninteresting after all? Or because he had difficulties with speaking to a mortal without showing his superiority? Or because of… She stopped her inner musings right there. Following the movement of his graceful hand, she watched his thin lips enclose the fork tip and she noticed again. The tiny markings. They were very hard to distinguish, but still, they were there. Little abysses of pain, left by the stitches that used to hold his lips together.

He did not look, though he must have sensed her eyes on him.

And what if…

Maybe he had been just waiting all the time. Waiting for her questions. Because – how was he supposed to start? What words exactly was he supposed to begin with? Perhaps he was in the middle of exactly the same trouble as she was, so Jane just decided to let the events flow. Naturally, slowly. No need to force anything.

And as soon as she made it, she felt comfortable with her new decision and focused on his being as a whole. And wondered if she had ever witnessed something like that before.

Even the way he behaved at the table was some wonderful kind of remarkable. Sitting straight and composed as a true aristocrat, yet looking perfectly relaxed and content. His appearance was thoroughly elegant and synchronized; without a single unnecessary movement. And all the swiftness and ease he was able to put in such a banal task as pouring the water for her… She just could not understand. It felt like a sort of performance, yet without a trace of opulence, as he would have said. And letting the flowing silence wrap around her, Jane let herself relax, finally, and just enjoy the feeling of sharing the small space of her home with this unfathomable riddle of a man.

"Thank you, Jane Foster. It was truly delicious."

She would have got startled, perhaps. But his voice felt like magic.

"Thank you. And you are very welcome." She nearly whispered in response. "I – there's still some more if you want."

"You have judged my demand precisely, Jane. Thank you."

"Ah." She darted a playful look. "But I hope you have reserved some space for the ice cream, have you?"

"Right now?" His eyebrow went slightly up in quite a roguish manner, too.

"Right after I make the coffee." She chirped, taking the plates to the sink.

"Jane?" He asked suddenly and stood up.

"Yes?" She turned eagerly.

"If you'd like any help with anything–"

She frowned a bit, bringing a hand to her hip. "What sort of question is this, my lord?"

"Oh." He shook his head, smiling lightly. "Clearly, I've just committed what I feared I would…"

"What?" Jane smiled teasingly and leaned against the sink behind her.

"I have insulted you." He stressed out, wrapping his arms around him, and leaned forward a bit.

"Slightly." Jane admitted, shrugging one shoulder.

"I see. Any possibility to make up for my mistake?"

"Sure. Go back to the poems and pick a nice one. Then learn it by heart and when the mood suits me, I'll ask you to recite it."

"Just one?" He said, biting minutely on his lower lip. "That is not much of a challenge, Jane Foster." He teased, taking a few hesitant steps backwards.

"Take it or leave it." Called Jane, turning slowly to the sink.

She heard a short, muted chuckle then, which she took as a response and most likely as a sign of surrender as well.

* * *

"So..?" Jane asked; maybe a bit eagerly than she intended, and tilted her head at a frowning Mischief Master who had just swallowed his very first spoonful of vanilla ice-cream.

He remained silent for a few moments, just holding up the tiny glass bowl and viewing it with a great suspicion.

"What kind of black magic is that?" he uttered then, cutting another spoonful right away.

"I knew it!" Jane laughed in reply.

* * *

A wide path turned right and slightly up in front of a lonesome couple. The glittering, crystal clear sheets of snow were welcoming and greeting them along their way, the single snowflakes reflecting the daylight like millions of miniature diamonds. A man and a woman, silent and peaceful, were walking through this winter land of wonders, looking up to the tall, old trees, at the dark-green branches lowering under the weight of snow, and up to the endless oceans of the blue skies above them.

He was tall and dressed in a dark coat and green scarf, his hair was long and black against his porcelain skin. She, however, was considerably shorter; some would surely call her tiny in contrast to her tall companion. Her hair was long as well, maybe the same length as his; but hers was the color of light-brown. Her face was adorned with beautifully shaped, full lips and eager, long-lashed, chocolate-colored eyes. Her short, but warm coat was green and her scarf white, same as the winter cap she was wearing. Partly hidden underneath the coat there was a brown corduroy skirt. Thick white tights and brown, knee-high boots were protecting her legs from the cold. She had her hands hidden in the pockets and a cloud of mist formed before her mouth each time she looked up and marvelled at the scenery the nature had prepared for them.

And silently, they made their way down the snowy path that was slowly bringing them to a little hill. He kept the same pace at first, not minding the slope. However, her strides were much shorter than his, so she had to put more effort in catching up with him. Suddenly, her leg reached an area of a heavily tamped snow and slid. She yanked forward, but just a fraction. Then she realized her hand had been caught by his.

"I'm sorry, Jane." Loki breathed as he steadied her.

"For – for what?" She exhaled too, her breath much heavier than his.

"My stride must feel like a run to you. I'm sorry I haven't realized it earlier."

She let out another breath mixed with a merry chuckle. "That's true, but I could have said something, right?"

"Yes, you should have."

"Okay." She admitted, still smiling at him. "Then… Let's go. At a slower pace, please."

"As you wish, little lady." He smiled back and did not let go off her hand as they set off. "And please, do not fear to speak to me."

"Hm." She sounded in reply, seemingly deep in thought. Although her mind was actually rather busy with their hands holding each other.

"Hm..?" he repeated, amused, and darted an intrigued look at her. "I admit I am rather skilled in reading between the lines, but this was too little even for me."

"Well, it was not meant as an actual statement. Just a 'hm'. A sound of wondering, you know." Grinning mischievously, she returned the glance.

"Wondering?" he breathed, enjoying himself with this little talk, "I assume that as a researcher you get intrigued quite easily. But what could it be this time?"

Lowering her eyes, she shrugged slightly. "I just got surprised by your statement, that's all."

"Hm."

"Hey!"

"And what was so surprising about it?" He asked then, taking her cold fingers in both his hands.

"Nothing", she smiled to herself, "Just –"

At once, he forced them to a halt.

"What?" Jane asked quietly, inspecting the path in front of them, narrowing her eyes. Then she glimpsed at him, and realized he was looking elsewhere. She turned right to have a look herself, but was taken by surprise as a snowball crashed against her shoulder, a short shower of snow washing over her face. She blinked twice to clear her view and followed the soft laughter that was coming from the snowy hillside along the path; then put on a knowing smile and turned back. "We have approached the village." She said, glancing at him meaningfully.

"So?" he asked, pretending not to comprehend.

"Ah. Okay." She shrugged.

"Hello Jane!" A child's voice called from behind a tree that stood right at the edge of the path, a few feet ahead.

"Hello, Tuva!" Jane waved at the ten-year-old girl. "That was a bit insidious, wasn't it? Was that you?" she frowned playfully.

"No. It was this blockhead brother of mine." The girl snarled at a somewhat younger boy that she had just dragged from behind the tree.

"Liar!" called the boy, addressing his elder sister and pushing her away as they reeled onto the path.

"Guys! Now, stop this quarrel." said Jane, rubbing the snow from her shoulder, giggling slightly and flashing the boy a sly look. She was used to meet this little group of children from the neighborhood frequently on her walks and grew rather fond of them. And well, they seemed to return it. She even suspected this little roguish boy, Joakim, of developing a crush on her. And she thought she had been most likely right when she saw his slight blush.

"She's always such a meanie!" the boy complained to Jane.

"I'm sure it's not that bad." Jane smiled as she approached them. "And you should not call your sister a liar. I know it was you, Jo."

"I'm sorry – " murmured the boy, puffing slightly, but was cut out straight away.

"Janie has a boyfriend now!" another little girl, considerably younger, dressed in colorful winter clothes and a pointed green cap cried out, ran down the hillside and threw a small fistful of snow at Joakim.

This time it was Jane's heart that skipped a beat. She turned quickly to glimpse over her shoulder and there he stood. Loki Laufeyson. Just a few steps behind her. Visible to everyone, not even trying to disguise himself. At least he kept the Midgardian clothes.

"Ah…" Jane uttered, panicking just a little. "We're not actually… He's…" She gestured desperately; looking wildly in Loki's smiling face as he moved to come closer. They all went strangely silent when he approached them. Jane's heart raced.

"So?" He asked finally as he stood right beside Jane, watching her from the corner of his eye. "What am I?"

"You…" said Jane quietly, unsure of what will follow. Clearly, he had not forgotten how to raise confusion and insecurity.

"You look like Loki." Tuva said, her voice tiny but very suspicious.

"Hm." He sounded in response, leaning over to Jane slightly, his eyes full of tease. "Do I?"

"Maybe. In a way." Jane shrugged, digging her eyes into his, trying to look as cheeky as possible.

"But Loki was evil." Joakim pointed out, frowning, his tone trembling just a little.

"Oh." The trickster purred, leaning closer to Jane. "Is that right?"

And right there, Jane did not know how to react.

"Sometimes – " Tuva barged in and then leaned backwards a bit when Loki instantly placed his intense stare upon her. And mindlessly, the siblings held their hands.

"Sometimes..?" Loki inclined his head.

"Sometimes he's evil and sometimes he's good. That's what dad says." The girl peeped.

Loki stared a little while longer, searching her eyes attentively. Jane could feel the breath Tuva was holding. She could see the girl's eyes battling for freedom.

"And what is he now?" Loki asked quietly.

Tuva seemed taken aback; she clearly was not sure which answer to choose. But Loki remained silent and waiting. Not knowing what else to do, Jane wrapped her fingers around his. She let out a trembling breath and looked up to him as he held her hand tightly.

"You're good." A tiny voice broke the silence.

Loki snapped his head at the smaller girl who said those words.

"Am I?" He asked, his tone revealing a trace of surprise. "And what makes you think so?" He added.

"Janey is good." The little girl answered simply.

"That is true." Loki admitted quietly, his gaze softening as he viewed the small figure with curiosity.

"So," Joakim began insecurely, "are you – "

"One thing you may not be aware of yet…" Loki cut him off at once, not looking away from the girl. "This land is known for the presence of the Snow dragons."

"What?" they all breathed in surprise.

"They are very rare, but right now I am sensing one coming." The Trickster continued; his voice thoroughly calm and soft, as if he had just voiced a perfectly dull thing.

And as soon as he spoke the words, a rather fresh wind came rushing around them, making the snow rise. Then the wind became stronger and the snowy mist whirled, making the tree branches stir and wave. They all crouched, covering their faces, hiding from the freezing blasts. Something like a distant roar sounded in the heights of the treetops and Jane could have sworn she spotted the silhouette of a giant wing and the faint hint of two narrowed, glaring red eyes. And then, as suddenly as it came, all the whirling snow masses shot up and dissolved into nothingness. And everything went still.

"Ha. We were lucky." Stated Loki, coming surprisingly from behind the tree; rubbing and shaking off the snow from his coat. "This one was small and easy to frighten off."

Jane stared, very uncomprehending.

"However, it is quite possible that he will return." Loki said, clapping his hands together in order to get rid of the last bits of snow. "But I won't be here anymore."

"Then… What do we do?" The little girl asked, full of unfeigned concern.

"I think," Loki said, "that coming home before the dusk would be wise. And in the meantime," he paused to have a close, mischievous look at them all, "I suggest hiding in the fortress."

"Fortress?" Jane could not help it and asked.

But he just smiled lightly, folded his arms in front of him and darted a meaningful look above them.

Jane looked, too, and realized they were standing in front of what looked like a gate made of ice, a passageway between the two tall trees. The two elder children let out synchronized cries of astonishment and elated, they ran inside.

"Where did that come from?" Jane heard Tuva's suspicious question from inside the icy tunnel.

"Look at the ceiling! The branches are trapped in the ice!" her brother answered, full of amazement.

The little child's eyes widened and twinkled as she bent forward to have a look herself, and then she set off towards the gate of ice.

"Why such a hurry, little one?" Loki called, appearing suddenly in front of the child.

"I wanted to have a look." The girl replied sincerely, her green eyes honest and wide.

"You can. But now," he said softly, getting down on his knee to level her sight. "Tell me, child, what is your name?"

At first, the child just stared, her eyes fixed firmly to his face, searching. Then her lips moved faintly. "Sig –" She spoke. He let out a soft breath.

"Sigrunn." She tried once again.

"That… Is a beautiful name." he said quietly and then held her little hands in front of him. "I have something for you, little Sigrunn."

"What is it?" Sigrunn asked eagerly.

"You'll see." He smiled. "If you follow my instructions."

She nodded once.

"All right." Loki continued. "Hold your hands like this and close your eyes firmly. And do not open them until I tell you, understood?"

"Huh." She nodded again, still staring into his eyes.

"Sunshine, your pretty eyes are still looking at me. Don't make me blush."

Sigrunn giggled and obeyed. He then inhaled deeply and blew into her cupped palms. A flower of ice appeared there. One of Sigrunn's eyes was slightly open at that time.

"You cheated." Loki said.

"Your eyes were red." She answered.

"I scared you."

"No." Sigrunn chuckled in reply.

"You're a little liar, aren't you?" Loki smiled back. "Do you like my gift?"

"Yes!" The girl nodded promptly. "But it will melt…"

"But you will remember it." He almost whispered. "Once, I gave this flower to a girl with a similar name to yours. She does not remember anymore. But you will."

"Huh…" Sigrunn sounded weakly, studying the ice flower in her hands.

"Now, the fortress is waiting for you." He prompted. She looked up, smiled faintly, waved at Jane and set off.

Jane let out a relieved breath as Loki stood before her once again. "You – " She almost whispered, "I was a bit frightened, you know. And they recognized you."

"They have all forgotten me already."

"Ah." Jane looked up to meet his eyes. Her look reflected a mild reproach. "Even Sigrunn?"

"She'll remember the flower."

"I see." Jane breathed, a bit more content. "And that… the one with the similar – "

"Sigyn." He explained before she could ask properly.

"Mhm." Jane nodded, biting her lip.

"This belongs to the past." He hummed, holding her hand softly, carefully. "Come, little lady. Your hands are cold. Let's come home."

* * *

It was when Jane made a rather futile attempt to move that she realized she had been sitting with legs folded underneath her body for too long.

The dim, soft light of a lamp was coming from the corner behind her, making her hair glint with each movement. Her face was illuminated by the soft blue glow emitted by the screen of her laptop and also by the TV across the dark, wooden table. She was sitting cross-legged in her favorite huge armchair, whereas her companion was comfortably curled up on the sofa beside the table.

Her living room was arranged in white and dark brown. And she did not find it cold or dull, as there were books and flowerpots and candles and all the small gifts from her friends that allowed this room to breathe and beam with different colors. She herself was currently wearing dark sweatpants, white top and a blue, woolen cardigan. Oh and a pair of socks with pink and blue stripes. He obviously felt quite comfortable in anything that was green, so white t-shirt and a pair of green sweatpants this time.

She turned her head, minutely and extremely slowly as to not disturb him. His eyes were focused on the TV, however, at the same time they seemed to be looking elsewhere; somewhere far and unknown, through the veils of night, and beyond the rips of space and time. His knees were bent and leaned against the backrest of the sofa. His slender hand with long, delicate fingers was holding a glass of red wine – and as he brought the glass to his lips to take a sip, Jane could not keep herself from turning her head more. She just had to see his lips touch the glass surface…

She blinked and smiled in apology after the green eyes, filled with cunning and curiosity, had suddenly moved to look at her. "Um…" She felt her cheeks blush. "So, what was the program like?" she blurted out then, checking the TV screen briefly, realizing she had completely forgotten what they had been watching. The current program seemed like a rebroadcast of the biathlon race that had taken place that morning.

"It appears to be still in progress," Loki replied calmly, letting out just the tiniest hint of teasing. "And although I can't say I am thoroughly interested; at times it turns out to be quite thrilling." He stated softly and sipped at his wine, never taking his eyes off her.

She raised her brows playfully. "Thrilling, you say?"

"At times." He repeated dispassionately, shaking the glass and watching the dark-crimson liquid stir.

"You like the shooting part, right?" Jane asked, sending a sly smile his way.

"What I like is the combination with the run. One can see how skilled some of the men are at saving and giving away the energy. And some of them are really bad shooters."

"Bad?" Jane straightened her back, which action reminded her of her stiff legs. "Maybe in your view. I always regarded them as excellent shooters. You know, it must be pretty hard to calm down, and hold your breath to take aim after the exhausting run. Your body is shaking; your hands are weak…" Jane shrugged, closed the laptop and placed it on the table. "I can't imagine myself hitting those tiny targets even if I was pretty calm."

"Well, few of the contestants are very capable at what you said, but the rest…"

"Ah!" Jane groaned as she tried to move her legs. And there he was, standing above her, leaning over, offering support. "Thank you." She peeped appreciatively, and looked up.

"You should not sit like that for too long." He pointed out while helping her on her insecure feet.

"Yeah, I know. But the work needed to be done."

"Certainly it was worth it."

"We'll see, I guess." Jane said, wincing slightly as she attempted a step forward. "And maybe I could use a little walk." She decided a few heavy going steps later. "Will you accompany me?" She asked, gazing up to him, a warm smile adorning her features.

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards as he glimpsed meaningfully over his shoulder. "I'm going to miss the finish if I do."

"Is this what you call 'not thoroughly interested'?" Jane asked, tilting her head, curious. "I… can look up the results for you when we return." She murmured then, lowering her eyes and feeling the blush again as her fingers sort of automatically wrapped around his.

He chuckled lightly, a sound that tinkled and flowed through her ears like a melody.

"In that case, what are we waiting for?" He asked joyfully, holding her small hand by the fingertips, raising it up and to the right to make her move.

And before she could slip away to get dressed, she realized he had summoned her clothes already, as well as his own, Asgardian outfit.

* * *

"Do you often enjoy walking in the night?" He asked, a cloud of breath escaping his mouth.

She listened to the snow creaking under their feet for a moment before answering. "The astrophysicists tend to be most active at this time, you see…"

"I became quite aware of it recently."

"You better." She said softly, gripping his hand tighter.

"And do you not fear the loneliness and dark?"

Jane sighed deeply, narrowing her eyes, wondering. "The researchers can't afford these fears if they… Let's say want to push the frontiers further." She breathed, looking up to the infinite sky. He said nothing, just kept pacing quietly beside her.

"Many could call us fools, but…" Jane resumed, thinking over her words. "It is very simple. We love the stars more than we fear the dark. Both literally and metaphorically."

"Your statements sometimes surprise me, Jane." He replied finally, keeping his eyes focused on the ground.

"They surprise you?" she breathed out a merry laugh, placing her curious stare upon him. "In which way?"

He looked up. "In a very…"

"Come on!" Jane chuckled, turning to him and gripping his hand in both hers.

At that, he looked slightly down, in her direction, and viewed her suspiciously from the corner of his eye, little smile threatening his lips. "…Positive way. I think."

"Thank you." Jane murmured, smiling, and gazed up again. "But then again," she said, admiring the millions of tiny twinkling spots above, "the stars are sometimes too far away to dispel the creeping night."

"Sometimes they seem to fade, but you must never lose the hope that they are still there." He whispered subtly in reply.

And she understood perfectly. She could see the true meaning of his words, because he had all the rights to say them. Wondering whether he had kept that hope even in his darkest hours, she sighed, and then took a deep breath of the freezing air that smelled of snow and forest. "Beautiful night, isn't it?" she said, not sure if that was the exact sentence she had wanted to say; or should have said.

"Full of magic." He agreed, though.

And suddenly, she grinned to herself. "Just one thing is missing to make it perfect."

"Hm?" he uttered, intrigued.

"I think it's the right time for the poem." She glanced up to him, a little challenge reflecting in her eyes.

"Oh. I almost started to think you had forgotten."

"Nope."

"All right, then." He said and cleared his throat meaningfully. And then, he let the magic of his voice resonate gently through the winter's night.

" _Bushes, valleys, silently,  
You fill with misty light,  
Easing my soul utterly  
Again, at last, at night: _

_Soothingly you cast your gaze  
Over a dark country,  
As gentle and friendly eyes  
Guard my destiny. _

_Glad, and troubled, times  
Echo in my heart,  
I walk between pain and delight,  
In solitude, apart._ "

Their footsteps supplied a strange kind of rhythm to his flowing speech. At the beginning, Jane did not know where to focus her eyes, but then, she felt like closing them and just let his soft voice guide her. The silent, but clear words embraced her, caressed gently, and lifted up and away to a different place. She could see the distant scenery; she could hear the burbling song of water that was not there. And she could sense the stir and affection arriving with his voice and wrapping around her heart.

" _Flow on, beloved flood: flow on!  
I'll never know joy again,  
Laughter and kisses, both are gone,  
And loyalty flows away. _

_There was a time I had as yet  
Life's most precious thing!  
Ah, a man can never forget  
That which torments him! _

_River, through the valley, murmur,  
Without rest or peace,  
For my singing, gently whisper,  
Murmuring melodies,_

_When you rage on winter nights  
And then overflow,  
Or when around the Spring's delights  
Of bursting buds, you go._

_Happy are we if, without hate,  
Hidden from the world,  
We hold a friend to our heart  
And with him explore_

_What, unknown to all their art,  
Ignored, by all mankind,  
Through the labyrinth of the heart  
Wanders in the night._ "

Silence followed the very last words and the sounds of the creaking snow were slowly reaching Jane's senses again. She felt like falling, falling to the ground very slowly – it was an almost infinite moment before her spirit settled back, softly and silently like a feather.

She let out a short, startled gasp at the tiny tear that ran down her cheek.

"Jane?" He stopped, viewing her intently.

"I…" she halted, too, though reluctant to look.

"What is it?" He asked softly, so softly; and took her small hand in his and held it close to his chest.

"I… Thank you. It was…" She trailed off, her voice stuck in her constricted throat. She bit on her lip as another tear escaped her eye. "I'm sorry." She whispered then, cracking an apologetic smile. "I just wanted to thank you. I am grateful that you visited me." She uttered silently, realizing that no matter how intriguing, wonderful and enjoyable it was, this visit has to come to an end eventually.

"No, Jane." He said, his voice urgent and determined. "I should be the one grateful here. And I have been all this time. You were the one to visit me first, putting so much at stake, and giving me even more. And so I came here to thank you. To express my deepest gratitude and devotion to you. I cannot hope to be able to return fully what you have done for me, but tell me, Jane," he asked, searching her eyes and placing one hand gently to the side of her head. "Is there anything you wish for? If it is in my power I'll give it to you."

She stared for a while before fully comprehending what kind of dialogue they were having and that she had been asked a question. And she did not know what to say. Then her lips parted and suddenly, she was perfectly certain what her actual wish was. She offered a little smile first; then brought her hand up, to his dark, focused eyebrow, to his temple, to his jawline.

"I wish you left all that darkness behind. I wish the stars always shone above you, guarding you on your way. I wish you forgot the sadness. From now on, please," she smiled once more, brushing her thumb over his cheek softly, "live with the light in your heart."

His eyes became restless and wide as he took in a shuddering, startled breath. Then he closed his eyes for a while, focused and concentrated, as if he was trying to listen to his own heartbeat. "I will." He stated eventually, quietly, yet firmly. "Though the light of my Star will shine on me from a great distance." He added then, fluttering his eyes open.

And she could not keep her heart from leaping. Caressing his cheek, she tried to summon some courage, but failed. This was just too much. Her throat tightened again. "I'm right here." She whispered, her voice shaking and fading away.

"I know." Loki breathed and running his fingers through her hair, he lowered his head. He stopped just above her lips, as if uncertain about the consequences. But to both their surprise, she pulled him further down and standing on her tiptoes, she closed the remaining distance, slowly, and placed her lips on his.

She could feel her heart unfold like a flower to the sun. It was sweet, it was bitter; it was bright, yet with the shadow hovering in the heights. She was encircled with warmth, yet felt the chills coming from his fingertips as they traced her cheekbone. It was slow and hesitant and chaste, yet eager and desperate.

It was eternity, hidden in one moment.

She let her lower lip brush over his for the last time as he pulled slowly away. "Jane." He barely breathed, "Will you…" he asked, his brows colliding, his slender hands cupping her cheeks. "Would you…"

"Yes?" She let out a whisper filled with curiosity.

But he suddenly seemed to focus on something else. Pulling away from her embrace he looked to the left, at the forest.

"What is it?" Jane asked anxiously, looking in the same direction.

"The wind rises. And it's cold." He explained briefly. Jane furrowed her brows with confusion and was about to object, but he gripped her hand tightly and led her back.

His strides were smooth, swift and rushed. She was stumbling behind him, finding it hard to keep up at such a pace, and feeling uneasy at the sudden shift of events. "Loki…"she tried.

"You must go home, Jane. It's cold." He said simply, not even looking at her.

And so they approached and rounded the group of tall spruces that marked the path to her house and rushed up. They crossed the small garden in a hurry, and then, finally, they reached the wooden porch. Jane was forced up the two stairs and further, but there she reserved a space for refusal. She spun around to face him. "Loki, please! What does this – "

"Please, go inside." He stopped her.

"And you?"

"I…" he paused, and unmoving, listened carefully, tilting his head as if trying to catch some unknown sound. And then, he turned around in a flash, his hand shot up and caught –

"What?" Jane gasped, startled and horrified. "An arrow? You – Who…" she did not know which fact was more shocking – that someone tried to pierce them with an arrow or Loki snatching it like it was the easiest thing to do. Eyes wide open and bewildered, she tried to look around but was pushed against the entrance door as he hid her view with his back.

"He missed." Loki noted matter-of-factly, perhaps just to reassure himself. "Purposely, I suppose." He sighed, inspecting the arrow he had just caught with his bare hand. When Jane managed to step out of his shadow, she moved around him, viewing the silvery arrow with disbelieving eyes and touching it with a trembling hand. "Jane," Loki whispered, his voice one step form desperate. "Hide _inside_. Now."

"No." was her natural answer. And his eyes glared with disapproval and impatience. His lips parted to try and persuade her, but then his eyes shifted to the left, as if he sensed someone else coming. And the garden and surroundings answered with a stubborn, nervous silence.

"I believe we may take it as a friendly greeting?" Loki asked then, turning around and raising his voice to make his words resound clearly; seemingly giving up the little quarrel with Jane. "No tricky surprises this time?" he called, flapping the arrow in his hand meaningfully, addressing someone invisible. No answer again.

"I see." Loki shook his head, grin full of sarcasm spreading on his face. "Looks like the Hawk prefers his warm nest to us." He continued his teasing, spinning the arrow around his fingers. "But that is a little boring. What are we supposed to do before you make up your mind, Mr. Barton?"

"What about this." A cold, strong female voice came from the left side. Jane snapped her head in the woman's direction. She was dressed in dark, tight overall; her hair was long and red. And in her extended hand, there was a handgun aimed at Loki. Three armored men with assault rifles were standing beside her.

"Tell me, noble Prince, how good are you at catching bullets?" The woman asked strictly, her hand steady and firm.

"Shall we find out?" Loki answered, perfectly calm and composed.

"You are forbidden from Earth."

"Not anymore." Loki objected, his voice flowing like liquid silk.

"Says who?" the woman snapped, her brow rising slightly. "Ms. Foster?"

"Leave Ms. Foster out of this." He hissed, the amount of menace in his tone making even Jane step back.

The woman remained silent at first, tilting her head slightly to the side, thinking. Then she grinned in a cruelly sly, victorious manner. "Oh." She breathed, her eyes narrow and focused, her tone stinging as venom. "Is this love?"

Natasha was a professional. Cold and calculating. She knew her duties and she knew her means. She knew her determination and realized that feelings and personal objectives should be put aside on a mission. However, then there were times like these. And this time, it was her moment. A moment she had been waiting for so long. A right moment to spit her hate into this pretty, perfectly composed face. She wanted to taste it, she wanted to devour in the tiniest jerk of his eyelid at her words and laugh at whatever his answer full of rage and fury might be.

But he just lowered his eyes, looking away. And that was strange. Surprising.

Wrong.

They say that the revenge is sweet. But this tasted too bitter for her liking.

"I'm afraid I cannot leave Ms. Foster out of it. But it was not me who had brought this upon her, do you agree?" She uttered eventually. No, it was not an apology in her tone. It was not compassion. It was… the dissipating hate, maybe? One way or another, there was no time for reflection. The time had come for orders. "Johnsson, Kaminski, take care of Ms. Foster. Turner, search the house." She said coldly.

"What..?" Jane let out a sound at last, seeking support from the wall beside her.

The men moved, and Loki's sharp eyes shot in their direction. "Touch her and you'll beg for a quick death."

"Loki Odinsson!" Natasha warned, gripping her weapon with both her hands.

And Loki glared wildly, the serpent's fang tingling against his armor as he turned at her, his eyes glinting with fury.

"Calm down, man. Have next two greetings for you." A steady, biting voice of a man dressed in white came from across the garden. He was holding a silver bow, the drawn chord ready to propel two arrows at once, and was approaching them cautiously, like a cat sneaking to its prey. "This time with a spectacular surprise." He added, lowering his tone to a purr.

Loki's fists clenched, his eyes blazing flames of green fire.

"You don't have to worry about Ms. Foster's well-being." Natasha decided to break the silence at last. "There's something called the Geneva convention that we observe. Unlike other's…"

Jane remembered how to breathe again as she saw Loki's eyes slide shut slowly. Setting his jaw, he lowered his head, tilting it slightly to the side. "Do you realize, Ms. Romanov, how laughable are those words on your lips?"

She snorted shortly. "Yes. But still, they are true." She said wryly, offering an uncompromising grin. "Let me take you to a journey, again, Loki of Asgard."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of the poem used is "To The Moon" (Final Version) by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe ("An den Mond" in the original version). I suggest and recommend his other works as well, they are truly beautiful and heartbreaking!


	3. Chapter 3

_So close your eyes and you will find me  
I'll be watching over you  
I will be with you, you'll feel my spirit  
I know your faith will put you thru' _

_(Glenn Hughes; Lay My Body Down)_

* * *

Looking through the glass that surrounded him (again), Loki let out a silent breath. He sensed the walls standing tense and defiant against his magic. No interstice, no joint, no rivets, almost like this container had been made of just one piece this time. Of course the mechanism was there somewhere; he just had a harder time to find it. And despite their mocking words and self-confident smiles, he was certain he would eventually.

The room outside was cast in shadows, only a few artificial lights were flickering from the ceiling weakly. A great contrast to his prison cell filled with persistent, shining brightness.

Then, except his cell, the lights went off. And on again. In just one moment. And the construction of the colossal SHIELD battle ship lamented once more at the raging thunderstorm outside.

And… Loki Laufeyson smiled faintly – knowingly – as he held the serpent's fang that hung on a thin leather line around his neck. He shifted a bit in his sitting position, readjusted the crossed legs underneath him and rested one forearm on his bent knee.

 _Fools._ He thought. _But let us play this little game. Let's dance once more…_

The room hadn't changed a bit. The same uniformity and dullness, the same cold, the same futility. A faint glint form the distance made his sharp green eyes focus at a small object on the wall across the room.

It was a little picture of a man; set behind a pane of glass and put into a wooden frame. Postcard, maybe? No, it was too small for one… And the dark splotches, what were they? Eventually, Loki looked down at the fang's sharp end, touching it lightly.

"What is it?" he asked, appearing most uninterested, gesturing at the picture.

Natasha Romanov had been just turning a page of the book she was holding. She let out an annoyed sigh and pursing her lips sternly, she displayed her irritation even more. "Guess." Giving a sideways glance and shrugging minutely, she snapped eventually. "You have just one try."

And at once, Loki remembered. The agent. His back, covered with the jacket of his suit and then stabbed with the golden scepter. The quick, tiny crimson shower. And his pale hand squeezing the very weapon with an unmerciful grasp.

It was so easy, back then. But would he do that again? Perhaps.

And perhaps it was pretty much… not necessary.

 _Another pitiful, meaningless mortal gone._ That was what Loki had thought at that time. He frowned. He had thought that with the Tesseract in his hands, his power over this laughable realm was endless. Yet… An ultimate, utter defeat it had been instead. Then ridicule. Judgment. And consequently, a lesson from the "loving" all-father, in the form of unbearable torture.

His throat run dry, his heart froze, and fist clenched spasmodically at the faintest remembrance, just at the shadow of that times.

However, that was not the main issue that started bothering him. He realized something else now. Something more.

Someone.

 _What if she could have seen me back then? My mind veiled with madness, my eyes empty, my hands covered in blood. She would have realized what I was. What I truly was._ His heart raced; the panic seeping in. _But what if they showed her this picture? What if they told her how it happened? What if they reminded her of everything I've done? Would she ever look at me again? If only with the disgust and hate?_

No.

Loki knew that at that point, Jane would not summon any hate towards him. It would be pity displayed on her face. Disappointment would reflect in her soft eyes. Along with hurt and sorrow.

And that felt a thousand times worse than any expression of hate. Just the thought of the sad look in her eyes was like an ice-cold dagger running through his chest. _Is this suffering ever going to end?_ He swallowed hard. He had barely learned to live with the aftermath of one pain and before he knew, a brand new one had just welcomed him, embraced him with long, cold arms.

Loki's memories flew to the countless days spent as the serpent's prey. The pain used to be so strong that it forced everything else out of his mind, out of his heart, his soul, out of his very being. All the feelings and emotions. Out. Just the pain had remained.

He leaned his forehead on the wall made of glass and rubbed his thumb over the fang's pointed end once again.

_Do not worry, Phillip Coulson. I wished for death a thousand times. And yet it did not come. Rest in peace with the knowledge that I envied you._

There Loki stopped his musings, and with his forehead still leaned on the wall he turned his head slightly to look lengthily at his guard.

"Well?" she asked calmly, her stare fixed sternly at the text she was reading.

"What are you reading, Ms. Romanov?" he said simply. Here, a simple question. A short sequence of words was enough for him to hide all the fierce, monstrous battles that raged inside his mind, however painful they were. Just a few words were needed for a perfect cover-up. For a perfect lie.

"Ms. Romanov, is it now? What a progress from a mewling –"

She was cut off as he placed a forefinger against his lips, an ever so light and knowing smile forming just there as his eyelids slid down for a moment.

And frowning suspiciously, she watched him, somewhat taken aback, the unspoken word lingering between her parted lips. Finally, she tilted her head half in question, half in understanding, and closing her mouth she dug her eyes into the green ones. Then she raised the book to let him see the cover.

There was a huge black cross on the white background, with the words ' _Konrad Wallenrod_ ' in the middle section. Then, without any further words, she laid the book back down and returned to the text.

"Does the story include any poems?" inspecting the snake's fang, Loki asked after a long moment of utter silence.

"It _is_ a narrative poem." Natasha replied tersely, not lifting her chin from her hand that was currently supporting the weight of her head.

"Will you please read an excerpt to me?" he asked again, this time glimpsing at her from the corner of his cunning eye.

"It's in Polish." Was the brief answer.

"And?"

"You speak Polish?"

"I can speak any language I need."

"Ah. Mr. Silver Tongue, right? I forgot." She muttered back, her tone dangerously approaching disdain. Then she sighed and gave him another suspicious look. "Give me one reason why I should read this to you."

"As a simple exchange." He looked up from the fang, letting his eyes burn into hers. "Story for a story."

"Interesting."

"However..?"

"However, I have a condition. Your story first."

* * *

Jane embraced herself as she moved slowly towards the little, airplane-like window. It was midnight and thus dark outside.

Her bare feet felt cold on the metal floor. She was wearing nothing except a simple white nightgown she had been given. She looked outside.

The sky was ripped apart by several furious lightning at once. The thunder roared, resonating throughout the ship. And again. Then another lightning came, this time cutting the air vertically. Deafening thunder. The ship groaned and the lights went off.

Jane sighed, lowering her head. And smiled knowingly. She was aware that the spectacular show outside was not just the weather. It was anger. It was rage. It meant that Thor Odinson alone had been very, very offended.

And curiously enough, she felt relieved. Not just because of the storm, but because of the significance of it in the first place. It signalized clearly that Thor obviously cared.

And consequently, that granted one fact. That Loki had truly come just to visit her, with no ulterior intensions. In the light of this new realization, everything started to come forth: she could see the events of the past day in much clearer shapes and colors now. It seemed that she and Loki had been watched all that time. And it also seemed that the one who was watching was quite content with what he saw, too.

Yes, it all made sense. The entire time Jane had spent with Loki, the sky had been bright and shining, almost like welcoming them each time they had decided to go outside. And now that they were held captive, Thor decided to send his dissatisfaction to Earth, letting it hit with a full force.

_So, Thor must have known about Loki intending to visit me. And furthermore, he had most likely sent him here himself. Thor wouldn't do that if he wasn't sure Loki wouldn't hurt me. Or anybody else._

Sighing silently, she trailed her fingertips over the line where the glass met the cold steel.

_If only they could see it my way…_

Then suddenly, something caught her eye. Startled, she looked outside the small window again. Nothing. But she was sure she had seen something moving there. An unexpected wave of dizziness had her turning around and heading back to the bed. Wincing at the sudden pain erupting in her forearm, she held it by the spot where she had been bitten, and fell on the simple greyish-white sheets. A vision crossed her consciousness.

_Rain._

Yes, it was raining outside, was it not? So no hallucinations. However… She could actually _feel_ the raindrops on her skin. _How is that possible?_ She wanted to look, but in just one moment, her eyelids turned heavier than stones. And thus, with the roaring thunderstorm above and the darkness encircling her, she closed her eyes slowly, drifting off to sleep.

The room, the window, her bed, everything faded away; just the rain kept falling down, hitting her mercilessly. It felt so cold, the droplets fast and sharp as tiny razors of ice against her skin…

… _he was turning his eyes in every direction, but in vain. He would see nothing now. He knew. The wire that held his eyelids closed now reminded him of that fact very effectively. However, all he wanted was just to see him for the last time. To catch a last glimpse at least. He tried to call him, but it was futile._

_The horrible task had been almost done. No, another piercing pain. Another stitch._

_The final one._

_He thrashed against the cold chains that held him bound to his bed of stone, his lean body struggling against the shackles, the skin of his wrists ripping apart in the process. Useless. There was nothing he could do; his body was just a bundle of the Frost Giant misfit without his magic._

_Thor! He tried to call._

_But why? Why him? Why Thor, the one who had brought him here and had seen to his judgment? Loki could not reason that, but honestly he did not even try. He just felt it somewhere deep inside. The need to call this name, out of every name there was. However, the mighty Master of Thunder was not there to watch this show. Needless to say, for a good reason. But even if he was there, there was nothing he could do. He would not even understand the noise coming from Loki's throat that was supposed to be his name._

_And thus, only the raging thunderstorm above Loki and his executioners indicated that Thor was aware of what was happening. And that he disapproved strongly._

_A snake's hiss, piercing and so cold it would have caused one's bones crash sounded in his ear. He shivered, and then lay petrified. He could feel the serpent's presence. He could feel it move and tower above him. He could feel it wait, prolonging the moment of anxiety._

_All he did not know was the part of his body where the snake's fangs would land. And so he waited, his quick breath stuffing his throat and dilating his nostrils as the air had no sufficient opening to escape. The raindrops mingled with his blood, washing it away from his wounded eyes and lips; streams of tiny bubbles escaped the corners of his mouth. And except the storm above, everything was quiet and still, waiting. His executioners had stepped back, he knew it. But only to make space for another one._

_A quick shadow cut through the cold air._

_And two sharp, giant fangs clicked on his collar bone as they hit it, then slid on its surface and dug mercilessly into the flesh underneath…_

…

… _He yanked, shaking the chains that held him, and his chin went up as a violent spasm shot through his body. The serpent's loops around him loosened, letting him breathe just a little. And so he inhaled sharply, wincing at the unbearable pain that throbbed in his ribcage. He had not intended to, as countless times before, but still, his instincts told his body to take another breath._

_He did not want to breathe anymore. But yet, he did. But just to be able to let out a long, insane groan at the brand new pain that the poison dripping on his face brought him._

_How long has it been? How many days turned into darkness outside my prison cell while I was locked here, tied up to a column, with the serpent wrapped around me? Is there still such a thing as light out there?_

_Is there anyone outside at all?_

_What if all the days of the universe had passed and I had been the only one left? Somewhere deep down in the dungeon, forgotten by everyone, even by Ragnarok? No. No it can't be. The Death must be still there for me. She'll come one day. She will. She must. Or – what if I had died already? Am I dead? Or still alive?_

_No. There's no life anymore. There's no death, either. There's just pain…_

…

… _A light. A beautiful light was coming closer, soundless, peaceful, and graceful. Beautiful._

_He could not understand how he was able to see her through his sewn eyelids, but he did. And he knew she was real. A light in a form of a little woman, coming closer._

_Despite the looming serpent, she stopped right beside Loki; brave and defiant. And then, her arm moved, and she touched him. Her hands were the softest thing in the entire universe._

_Warmth._

_After thousands of years maybe, he felt warmth on his cheek. And the pain stopped._

_He could hear the venomous drops falling into a bowl instead on his skin. She held that bowl, standing as close to him as possible, so he could feel her silky dress brush over his skin. He could not help himself and rested his head against her belly. And she understood and laid one little, gentle hand on the side of his head, holding him even closer._

_However, the serpent's hiss was getting more and more threatening. Her body started to shake; the bowl must have been almost full now, and so too heavy for her to hold up anymore. She held his head tighter against her body, and let out a small, silent, but the more desperate gasp. She had to put the bowl away and pour the liquid out. She had to._

_She moved, but the snake did, too. Desperate and filled with fear for her, Loki thrashed his hands against the chains in order to attract the monster's attention, but it was too late. A swift movement, a deadly hiss and…_

_A silent groan died on her lips. She must have covered her mouth with her hand to silence herself. She did not want to attract the guards, obviously. But anyway, she had been bitten and therefore in terrible pain. He heard her body hit the ground. She was dying. Just because of him. Tears welled up in his eyes. If he could he would gladly cut his body open, tear out his beating heart and hand it over to her. He would do anything to save her. This little star that had come down from the sky to give a hope; now was dying slowly. This soft light that was fading away on the ground beside him._

_And then it disappeared completely…_

…

… _Sharp lights, unmercifully coming through his eyelids, burning. Voices. The snake's hiss, giving warning. And then the humming sound, coming from the distance. Familiar, somehow. It grew louder suddenly, and then it went up and past him. Something must have hit the serpent, because the massive loops that held him fell down lifeless the next moment. Loki let out a horrified, confused sound. But he could see no one. The sounds of the voices felt familiar, but –_

_The locks clicked, and the chains released him – he fell down, free. And before he could hit the cold ground, two huge, strong arms caught him and held him firmly, lifting him up and carrying out of the room._

_Then another light. This was unbearable. It cut through his eyelids straight into his brain. He groaned painfully, yet silently, burying his face into the other man's chest covered with leather and metal. He could not even shield his eyes; his arms were too stiff and weak. Words were whispered into his ear, and several orders were shouted into the space around. Then they entered the shadows. He was laid on the soft sheets of a bed. Intense scent made its way into his nostrils. And then, darkness…_

…

… _That familiar, deep male voice sounded again. Softly, very softly this time. Although it felt like an impossible task, Loki turned his head slowly towards the sound and listened. A large hand with rough, but warm skin cradled and caressed his face. That sound again, even softer, but somewhat more intense and desperate, came pleading. A breath warmed his ear. Loki frowned, struggling to focus and concentrate on the words._

_Yes, the words!_

_He could do that. He could recognize them, he could. He did!_

" _Loki, brother! Please, open your eyes for me. I know you can hear me. I know you can. Please, open your eyes."_

_He heard. Yes, he was listening. And he knew now who that pleading person was. His name was the only one he could remember._

_Thor._

_It was so painful; and so laborious - just to open one eyelid. And all he was rewarded with were incoherent splotches of dull colors and shadows, whirling around in a blur. He could not focus on Thor's face. He was not even able to tell the distance. It was an endless effort, but in the end Loki managed to lift up one hand. His trembling, long gaunt fingers reached out – and met the skin of his brother's cheek, the facial hair first. And then there was something wet that trickled from above…_

…

… _his eyes swung open into the night as he woke up screaming with horror. His breath was quick and shallow, his heart racing madly, his entire body covered with droplets of sweat. The serpent – it was there, in the very bedroom! He had seen it sneaking on the floor, crawling under the sheets –_

" _Shh! Loki, it was just a dream." Ever so calming and delicate, the most comforting sound in the world came to save him._

" _Th – Thor."_

" _Come." The other man ordered softly, and smiled as he wrapped his hands around Loki's weak body and lifted him up._

" _I am the King of Asgard." Thor whispered in his ear when they lay together on the huge bed, hiding from the cruel world underneath one sheet of fur. "I won't let anyone hurt you. Ever again."_

_Loki could not see his brother in the dark. Nevertheless, he returned the smile gladly …_

…

… _Hesitating, Loki stood right beside the door to the garden. Hiding in the shadow, ever so carefully, he touched the doorframe and managed a quick glimpse outside. Good. Like that, the daylight was not burning his eyes. But what if they go outside and walk in the sunlight, the rays of light hitting directly?_

" _Come, brother. There's nothing to be afraid of." Thor said quietly behind him. "Come, just give it a try." He went on, taking Loki's slender hand in his, grasping firmly as he did. "If the light irritates your eyes, you can close them. I'll lead you safely."_

_Taking a deep breath, Loki nodded once, and squeezed his brother's hand._

" _I want you to say it." Thor demanded, stepping suddenly into Loki's view. And the latter looked up, hurt and frowning like a puppy._

" _Stop casting these looks at me." Thor insisted, pressing the forefinger of his free hand into Loki's chest, grinning. "And say it aloud. No more nodding from now on. I want to hear your voice."_

" _I... trust you." Loki croaked silently._

_Thor furrowed his brows minutely at his little brother's broken voice. "Good." He said then and prompted them out._

_The light burned. It truly did hurt. But it also felt warm. Perfectly warm on his skin… He felt like melting into it, sinking into a pool of warmth and light and warmth… After several steps they took, he finally dared open his eyes. It was hurtful at first, but then his pupils adjusted to the amount of light coming through them, and he let himself see. Finally. The path beneath their feet, the grass, so unbelievably green and soft, the flowers, their blossoms moving with the breeze as if nodding heads to welcome him back. How simple. How beautiful._

_Then, an unwelcome cold poured over him. Something moved in between the lawns and flowerbeds. Or at least it appeared it did; Loki was not sure. But then he saw it again. And he froze. For the blink of an eye, it looked like a moving mass of something that definitely had not belonged there. It was monstrous; it was huge._

" _Loki?" Thor stopped at once, observing his brother with a worried face. "What is it?"_

" _It's there." Loki's voice came out as a faint tremble of the air. Terrified and shocked, he could not take his eyes from the spot in front of them._

" _What? I can't see anything unusual." Thor was looking, too._

" _Please…" Loki groaned weakly, his legs betraying him. The world around him blurred and faded, and the vivid memories flooded his mind with insane visions._

_He stared right into Thor's eyes, but he could not hear nor understand the words his brother shouted at him. All that was real was the serpent, looming over them both._

_Then Thor took Loki by the shoulders and shook him violently. "Loki, stop this! Stop this right now and look at me! Look at me!" he commanded fiercely. And then, suddenly, Loki obeyed. He let his eyes lower and fix on Thor's._

" _Take me h – " Loki tried to ask, but was cut off._

" _No! Loki, you can't be running away from it all the time. You let him win like that! You must not give in! You must fight this nightmare, you must… You must… Fight." Thor gasped in the end, looking away from Loki's face, breath quickened. "Very well. Let's go back home."_

…

…" _My brother will have you beheaded for this." Loki managed, observing the royal servants tightening the parts of his armor around him. He just could not understand. Why? What was the meaning of this?_

" _We are acting on our King's command, my lord." The eldest servant explained calmly. And as soon as they had finished, they took him mercilessly, and dragged him through the corridors. At first, Loki tried to oppose and to fight. But it was futile. He was too weak without his magic._

_Finally, they reached the Throne Hall. The servants dragged him closer to the golden stairway, and made him kneel at the front of it. Loki looked up and around. And for the first time in ages, he met Frigga's gaze. Her eyes were sad, with a glimpse of something he could not name._

_Mother – he wanted to say. But she was not._

_And then, there was the throne itself. And Thor, sitting there, wolf's fur adorning his shoulders, the helmet with wings sitting on his head. Glorious, that was what he looked like. The true king. He stood up as soon as Loki was forced to fall on his knees. The hammer, Mjollnir, was in his left hand, whereas the staff was held in the right. And the crowd went silent as the ground pounded under the weight of it._

" _Loki Laufeyson, you had been sentenced to suffer under the serpent's venom for your crimes. Your magic had been taken from you and sealed within its heart." Thor's mighty voice bounced off the walls in the golden hall, sending vibrations through the vast space, keeping everyone on the edge._

_There was not a single soul who would have dared oppose him, so he continued. "It is no secret that I disapproved from the start. Therefore, as soon as I succeeded to the throne, I cancelled this insane punishment and saved you. However, the time showed us it was not meant to be. I believed I killed the serpent, but it appears it lives under the protection of your magic within its body. It won't die unless you take what is yours."_

_Loki let out a horrified breath; his own heart stopped for a moment. His nightmares had been true after all. They had not been just dreams._

" _See, the snake is still waiting, and therefore sending visions in your mind. You won't find your peace until the punishment is completed, or you prove yourself worthy of receiving the forgiveness from the king's hands. Thus, you shall submit and return into your prison cell, or fight."_

" _Wha – " Loki mouthed in awe and shock._

" _I made a promise to you, Loki Laufeyson. Therefore I shall not consent to the first option. Instead, you will be given an opportunity to fight the serpent and take its heart. You alone. If you win, you are free and pure in front of the people of Asgard and all of the Nine Realms. If you lose… You'd die a warrior's death and should be provided all the appropriate honors." Thor paused. "Do you accept?" he asked then, the walls and the floor and the ceiling of the great hall resonating with the question._

_The blue eyes met the green, desperate, pleading, and urgent._

_And Loki was not able to make a sound. He was shocked beyond reason, he was…_

" _Do. You. Accept?" Thor called down again, appearing even greater now. "Loki Laufeyson, do you accept?" He demanded. "Or are you going to fail your king?" The blue of Thor's eyes was unbearable; digging deeper and deeper…_

" _I accept." Was the simple, desperate answer._

" _Very well, then." Thor acquiesced. "Let the trial begin."_

_Loki trembled, his eyes wide with fear. He was not expecting it to start right there. Nevertheless, somewhere above their heads, a horn was blown to call the serpent. The drums vibrated and woman voices started to hum an ancient battle song._

_And form behind the golden staircase, a giant, monstrous shadow emerged. Loki stepped back, his heart beating madly against his breastbone, filled with terror. No, Thor could not have meant it. His senses must have betrayed him. This could not be real. Thor! The only entrusted person in his life, betraying him like that? He said he would never let anyone hurt him again. He promised… He promised!_

_And then, the beast itself appeared. It was terrifying, simply horrific. Watching it come closer, listening to the sickening, well-known hiss – it felt like a nightmare come true. And he was unable to move. He just could not. Instead, he felt all the old scars – every single one of them. All the wounds split open again, the blood running in crimson streams in front of his eyes._

_His own blood was replaced by the serpent's venom, now circulating through his veins, burning like fire, searing and consuming everything. He felt unbelievably sore inside. And weak, so weak and helpless; defenseless. He stepped back again, his eyes bleeding tears at the hissing creature that towered above him._

_Laughter. Laughing voices of the unmerciful audience was the only gift in return. And it hurt. As on the day of his judgment. He felt the bitter taste of embarrassment on his tongue again. It made him feel like a failure. Like a true misfit. Meaningless to everyone in this graceful realm. A dirt on their clean clothes. Pitiful._

_He looked up at the snake hissing above him, and saw that the torture was not at the end. Not at all._

_The greenish skin slowly turned grey, and then blue. The eyes glowed crimson red. Now the humiliation was complete. Loki had been just reminded of what he truly was: that he was no different from the beast in front of him. They were the same. The unwanted freaks._

_This was the ultimate blow. Loki could not see any point in fighting back. His legs, trembling with weakness, betrayed him and he fell._

_Bursts of scornful laughter followed his fall; and as he looked up – his mind and vision clouded – the people around joined the serpent happily; their eyes changing color slowly, their skin rippling and taking the shade of pale blue… and they all laughed at him._

" _I'm sorry." Loki's wet lips moved faintly. "So sorry. So sorry…"_

_The darkness gathered above them all, getting ready to reach out and around his neck, ready to seal his eyes and mouth forever. Hot tears ran down his cheeks. And he dared look for the last time. One last look past his executioners, one last look at the world of light._

_And there he stood. A fierce warrior with blazing eyes, his features stern and desperate. His voice was strong, stronger than any call of darkness._

" _Your king commands you to stand up. You will not fail me!" The command was furious, yet pleading. And at once, Loki finally understood._

_The shadows subsided just to reveal to incoming blow. And just in time, Loki let out a cry of resistance and blocked the attack with his forearm, the fangs hitting the shining metal piece with a ringing noise; they scratched on the golden surface, coming closer and around his limb. Then the jaws tightened their grasp on his arm and gave a brutal yank._

_His arm had been nearly forced out of its shoulder as the beast dragged him, wiping the floor with his body before sending him mercilessly against the wall._

_He could not inhale, like his ribcage had been shattered by the blow. However, there was no time to even lose a thought on it. The serpent's mouth snapped at him once again. But he was ready for it. His hand shot up against the movement, getting hold of the front of the upper jaw, trying to block it from advancing towards his exposed neck. The massive, limbless body stirred impatiently, the loops waving in the air like the sea in a storm, letting Loki feel he was so much weaker and helpless against this force._

_He looked over the blue skin and into those sickly red eyes as he struggled desperately to keep hold of the jaw. He met the monster's orbs and watched. And felt something awakening in him. How dare you use the art of delusion against me? He thought and felt the fury boil inside him. And a realization came to him._

_Yes, his magic had been removed and given to this beast. And Odin Allfather had fallen asleep. A sleep so deep that the once powerful spell to keep Loki's true form hidden had faded away._

" _No." Loki seethed, the corners of his mouth tugging into a mad smile. "You are not the only savage monster here." He whispered in a voice that was unknown even to him alone._

_With a single yank, the snake pulled free and drew back. It towered high above him again, looking him down._

_But along with a strange killer instinct filling his mind and veins, Loki saw quite clearly what the beast was about to try. A sudden will to live invaded his muscles, feeding them with strength. And as the massive head, the mouth closed firmly this time, shot forward, he rolled aside, just enough to evade the blow, which hit the wall behind him instead._

_Another thing that the snake had not expected was that his victim made some preparations as well. And the realization came no sooner before a dagger made of ice, thick and sharp, pierced its eyeball and ran past it. The serpent twisted and tensed with spasm and pain, jerking and dragging Loki along. But he stayed cold and cruelly focused on his plan. He got a hold of the lower jaw then - never caring about his own arm that had assumed a Frost Giant's features – and with all his might, he pulled and tore the body part off, along with the muscles and sinews and shreds of skin._

_The blood sprinkled his surroundings, and rained over the shocked faces of the audience._

_Still unable to die, the snake moved with the last resistance and formed loops around Loki. But tens of thick icicles emerged in between the latter's armor plates and stood defiantly against the monstrous flesh that tried to tighten around him._

_Tossing the torn-off jaw away, Loki gave a swift yank and pulled his icy dagger out of the serpent's skull. He waited just a split second before plunging it back: through the throat this time._

_He fell forwards, pushing the serpent on its back. Straddling the twisting mass of flesh, he let the dagger expand into a pool of ice under the snake's body, in order to fix it to the ground. And when he made sure the immobilization was total, he let his own black claws sink into the remaining skin and tore it up. Ripping the body under him apart, he finally reached the pulsating thing. And after getting a firm, unmerciful hold of it, he pulled it out, sending another shower of blood over the stunned people of Asgard._

_The distant female voices cried out the words of victory, and fell silent, along with all the other sounds, making the king's footsteps and Loki's heavy, jagged breath the only noise echoing through the throne hall._

_Loki felt a firm grasp around his wrist. It was commanding him to stand. And he obeyed._

_Thor swung their joined hands up. And after a second of shocked silence, the whole space burst into a cheerful roar._

_And Loki looked and saw. And breathed freely, unashamed of his true form. There was no reason, after all. He had just earned his place among them._

_Blood red eyes met the sky-blue with relief and pride. The black claws tore the ugly-shaped heart in two and one part was handed over to Thor. He was hesitant for a moment. But then the savage warrior awakened in him and he took the piece of flesh, and devoured it with the fervor matching Loki's._

_Their eyes never parted until they had finished…_

…

… _He stared into the clouds churning over the horizon, veiling most of the beams of the rising sun. He loved those mild colors: purple and orange, white and ochre, blue and gold. And he loved the soft light coming through the barrier of morning mist, he loved the delicate scents that had started to linger the air. He loved the softness of it all._

_And so he watched; relieved. Soft air moved and stirred lightly the branches of the white wild rose beside him. He smiled, closing his eyes._

" _Beautiful morning." Thor nearly whispered. It sounded very rare of him. Well, his behavior these last days had been a little enigma to Loki. But nevertheless, he sighed in agreement. Beautiful, indeed._

_After a while of standing beside him silently and rather stiffly, Thor shifted. Just slightly, as if having something to say but hesitating to give it voice. And so Loki turned his head and gave his brother a mildly curious glance. The blue eyes looked, too, but then avoided the green, questioning gaze._

" _You are dying to see her." Thor said then. His voice was quiet, but steady. Confident. He looked up to meet Loki's eyes once again._

_And this time, it was the younger one who submitted and lowered his gaze._

" _Then why don't you go? You should travel to Midgard." Thor insisted suddenly, turning fully to his little brother._

" _No."_

" _You love her."_

_Loki's eyes were aching. As was his heart. It was true. But - "I should not return there…"_

" _Bifrost has been restored. You go tomorrow." Thor declared sternly and walked away. Perhaps to look after important things. And perhaps to avoid any further conversation. This had always been one of Thor's means. He had always thought that walking away meant an end to an argument._

_Letting out a breath full of anxiety and misgiving, Loki tightened his jaw as he spun around to walk back to his chambers. But then he stopped and looked to the side._

_The blossoms still moved with the wind. Peaceful, almost waving at him. As though the conversation had never taken place._

_He had nearly forgotten about the times he had been able to perceive those things. Such simple, but the more wonderful things. He reached out and touched one of the blossoms; rubbed his fingertips against the white petals gently._

" _I need no Bifrost." He stated stubbornly._

…

A low and deep female voice whispered in her ear. The words flowed in a comfortable rhythm, but were distant and shrouded. She liked the sound, it made her skin prickle, but she could not understand the words. There was a vision of a feast, of a battle and of misery.

And then, Jane woke up; she shot up and sitting stiffly, she breathed heavily, her wide, startled eyes looking around the room. She was all covered in sweat. She could not remember where she was or what time it could have been. Then she realized the morning light coming through the tiny window.

She looked at her hands then. They were tiny, little. They were not blue, they bore no claws. They wore no scars, except the familiar bite mark. They were hers again. Not _his_. Not –

_Loki._

She breathed out shakily, realizing what her dreams had just shown her.

Torture. Suffering. Pain. Grief. Light. Hope. Strength.

And love.

She smiled to herself, and wrapped her arms around her bent knees.

But then, suddenly, the ship construction croaked and a blast roared from not too far away. Startled, she turned her head quickly to the window. Blinding light of changing colors came from above. For a split second, she held her breath, then jumped on her feet and rushed to the window pane. And there she saw it coming. Three focused beams of light hitting the ship's outer deck. Jane stood on her tiptoes, struggling to at least catch a glimpse. But the view was too limited.

Nevertheless, she was certain what she had just witnessed. The SHIELD's battle ship had just welcomed a royal visit from Asgard.

* * *

Viewing the glinting glass surface thoughtfully, yet somewhat wearily, Nick lowered his head a fraction and rubbed at his dark eyebrow. Then he stood up swiftly and started towards the glass chamber, but then came suddenly to a halt and turned around, the black coat moving about. He would gladly kick that pretty face behind the glass, but luckily enough, he was able to think twice, too. Yes, how very fortunate…

He could feel the sharp, mocking smile and a pair of poisonous green eyes on his back. Literally.

Then the main door slid open and Ms. Hill emerged. Her face had this strange expression again. Surprised, most likely. And maybe a little taken aback. Well, that was not a good sign.

"So. What is it that the Thunderer needed to deliver with the highest priority; with the urgency so great he nearly sliced our ship in two?" Nick uttered with just that amount of sarcasm he could not put away.

"Well…" Maria shrugged and joined her hands in front of her. "We hold the Asgard's Royal Counselor captive." She explained briefly, shifting her eyes in the glass chamber's direction meaningfully. "Thor claims we had no right to do that and wants him free. Immediately. That's all." She almost chirped there. "Yes, and Ms. Foster, too, of course."

"Of course." Nick nodded, thinking. "Then please escort our royal visitors to the projection room and accompany them. We shall discuss the terms later."

"Well, um…" Maria lifted her eyebrows disapprovingly. "He did not look like going anywhere. And… He demands your presence outside."

" _Well_ ," Nick cocked his head meaningfully, raising his voice slightly, " _I am busy_. And I understand how terrible it must sound now, but it seems like His Grace will have to wait a minute."

"Uh… I beg to differ, Nick." Maria smiled in a weird way and swayed forward on her feet. "If you're not out to meet him in, uh – " she paused shortly to check her watch – "four minutes, His Grace goes back to Asgard."

"And?" Nick asked, stepping closer, suspicion glinting in his gaze.

"And then returns to us." She explained, swaying forward once more and looking around the room, her eyes almost apologetic. "With the Army of Asgard this time." She added then.

Holding his hands behind his back, Nick lowered his eye and hung his head slowly.

"Splendid." He said and breathed out; then straightened and glanced quickly over his shoulder. "Stark, Rodgers, you're going with me." He commanded, earning a decided nod and a firm "Sir" from Steve and a lifted brow from Tony.

"C'mon, move your asses. We won't have our King Charming waiting." Nick uttered then and set off.

* * *

"Threatening us with the Army of Asgard might be taken as a declaration of war, Your Grace." Frowning in the burning sunshine, Nick stated as politely as he was capable of that moment, just the corner of his mouth betraying the little biting hint accompanying the last words.

The party of six stared cautiously at each other. Just a few step-long distance separated them: a little grey land of no one, a tiny neutral zone, a spot of negotiation.

Nick with Steve and Tony in his suit stood on one side; Thor Odinson with his two companions on the other. They were no unknown faces to Nick – although he had not met them in person, he remembered their profile records very well. The tall, dark haired woman known to SHIELD as Lady Sif stood on Thor's right. On the left, there was a blonde man dressed in fine leather and fur. It seemed that the roguish, self-assured smile was always shining on his noble face. He was Fandral; there was no mistake in it.

"Capturing my counselor and brother in one person could be taken equally." Thor replied to Nick's previous argument, his voice steady and inoffensive, but the force and determination of his tone having everyone nailed down to their spots.

Nevertheless, Nick smiled at that. "We had a good reason. And I'm quite sure I don't have to remind you."

"Watch your tongue, mortal." Sif spat sternly in the director's way. Her face burned with strength. She was fierce and proud. But behind her tough mask, there were emotions and a quick, calculating mind. This woman deserved some caution, Nick decided in the end, but then he raised a slightly surprised eyebrow at Thor's lowered eyes and a sudden, little smile.

However, it faded as fast as it arose. The king's features hardened once more. "My brother, Prince Loki Laufeyson had been rightfully judged and sentenced. He had suffered his punishment patiently." The hammer shook in his grip as he explained heatedly. "However, before his punishment was meant to be completed, he had been given a chance to fight for his freedom. He did well, as a true warrior, and won a great victory. Consequently, he was forgiven and rehabilitated. Thus," Thor's voice became considerably stronger there, "I understand your reasons, but you must admit now that there's nothing you can accuse him of. This capture is not righteous. Therefore I demand his release."

"I understand." Nick shook his head, pursing his lips slightly. "But on the other hand, I am afraid that matters are not that simple in this world." He stated calmly.

"No." Thor opposed, adamant and stubborn. "What happened in my Throne Hall is _just_ that simple. I won't have my words twisted by you. Release Loki, or I shall take your actions exactly for what they are – an open violation of the sovereignty of the Realm Eternal."

"Just – " Nick held out a defensive hand "Just calm down before the unwanted words are spilled, shall we?" He looked around, the white of his eye rolling almost menacingly.

Thor spun the Mjollnir in his grasp. "I did not come to speak the words of war." He uttered, somewhat calmer. "However, know that I'm always ready for one."

"As we are." Nick replied carefully and shot a glance at the nervously stirring Steve Rodgers. His unbreakable shield glinted back.

"Very well. I see that none of us desires a war. That is good." Thor broke the silence at last. "However, it is the only common ground we share at the moment. It still leaves us with this one thing unresolved." He paused to give Nick a long glance. "I am still one person short."

"Unfortunately." Nick agreed.

"Whereas you have one spare." Thor shot back, tilting his head slightly.

"Indeed." Nick concurred warily, shifting his weight from one leg to another. He guesses the looks exchanged between Fandral and Sif meant nothing good.

"Well then." Fandral suddenly broke into the conversation, sighing in a bored manner and drumming his fingers on his sword's hilt. "Time to get even, my lord?" He asked slyly, darting a quick look at his king.

"Yes." Tightening the grasp on Mjollnir, Thor managed just before a battle-thirsty smile spread over his face.

"Stark – " Nick shouted and drew out his gun while backing off to make some place for Tony and Steve.

But there was something unexpected.

Instead of a headlong attack, Thor remained still. Sif and Fandral moved forward together, and crossed their paths in front of Thor, blocking the view for a second. And as soon as they parted again, the King of Asgard was gone. Like he had just vanished into the air.

"Tony, behind you!" Steve shouted before Nick could realize and judge what had just happened.

The unbreakable shield was sent through the air to stop Mjollnir from advancing on Iron Man's back. However, to the astonishment of everyone, the shield flew right through it.

Tony spun around on Steve's warning, only to discover an empty space.

"I am still right here, Man of Iron." A perfectly calm, deep voice announced behind him.

Tony turned right back, and saw the King of Asgard smiling from his original spot.

Tony tried to aim his repulsors to block the attack, but it was too late. The hammer came rushing to his chest, hitting the arc reactor directly. Well, almost. For some reason, instead of a full contact, a strange kind of force field sent him flying a good few yards over the deck.

A few feet away, Steve was about to retrieve his shield when a sword's blade came from the side and was placed swiftly under his chin. "Ah-ah." A silky voice warned. "I would reconsider that, pretty lad."

Steve hesitated. Unmoving, he looked at the man threatening him. A wide smile beamed through the finely-cut beard, but the eyes above were uncompromising…

When the helmet finally opened, Tony let out a sigh of pain and relief at the same time. Lying stiffly on his back he squinted against the direct sunlight and shifted a fraction. The suit became unbearably heavy. He threw his head back and received a view of the familiar shapes of the battle ship outer deck, and of the even more familiar faces in the windows above; guns and a bow were aimed at someplace around him. Then a silent shadow blocked the rays of light.

He turned and adjusted his head to see what it was.

"Hey, gorgeous." He breathed at the beautiful, but stern female face towering above him. "Am I dead?" he cracked a weary, but still somewhat cocky grin.

The tip of a spear dug into his cheek, not too deep to draw blood, but deep enough to bite. "No." Her deep, slightly hoarse – yes, that sexy kind of hoarse – voice said firmly in reply. "But let me take you to heaven." She tilted her head as she suggested.

"Oh - "

"Heimdall!" She called then.

A flash of a cunning, pretty smile, and then a roaring sound, a blinding glare, and then… Darkness.

* * *

"So – if I understand it correctly – you have kidnapped the Iron Man. You've just… taken him to Asgard." Those were the words she had never believed to say. Jane tilted her head to the side, her half-amused half-puzzled look pinned to the graceful King of Asgard, who was – somewhat surprisingly – currently sitting on the floor across her tiny 'guest room', with his back leaned against the wall. His knee was drawn up to support his huge, muscly arm that held the winged helmet.

"Basically." Thor admitted, sighing heavily, and tilted his head after Jane. His gaze was firm and penetrating, yet so unbelievably honest. Nearly the same as the day they had first met. And that little roguish smile that was made to hook women's hearts and never let go of them – everything about him stayed just the same as she remembered. Except that strange, thoughtful expression. His deep blue eyes bore the marks of worry, of thousands of thoughts he had to weigh now, of duty and responsibility. And she could see that the weight of it all had been most likely much more than he had ever expected it to be.

She smiled then, bringing one knee under her chin. "And what about Steve?"

"Exchanged for the opportunity to see my brother. And you." He explained, blinking slowly. There was a short pause after that. His eyes slid to the side. "I would not harm him, or Tony. They are my friends, my comrades, and I still regard them as such." Another heavy sigh. "This is not my style of battle, anyway."

"Well, but – " Jane looked into the light coming through the small window, frowning slightly, "you had to, right? It was all about the moment of surprise. And Tony… You warned him, and he turned. So you did not attack him from behind, did you?"

"Technically speaking…" Thor shrugged his mighty shoulders.

A smile of puzzlement made its way to Jane's face once again. "Since when you say such words as 'technically speaking'?"

He smiled, too, and rubbed his fingers against his forehead, appearing to share her confusion. "Seems that apart from his magic, I must have swallowed a fraction of Loki's Silver Tongue with the serpent's heart as well."

They shared a light-hearted, disbelieving, yet too short chuckle together.

She lowered her eyes then, and still lightly grinning to herself, she played with the edge of her nightgown, wrapping it under her toes. Yes, she had been still in her bed when Thor had appeared in front of her door.

She bit her lip slowly, thoughtfully. This situation was quite unbelievable as a whole. It felt so weird - inappropriate perhaps - to sit and talk like that to Thor Odinson now. But on the other hand, she could not deny it just felt perfectly natural. They were still friends, weren't they? Not to mention it had been Thor alone who had cut off uncompromisingly all her awkward attempts to greet him respectfully, and then he had just nestled down on the cold floor. And so she gave an internal shrug and decided it was probably time to relax a bit.

In the end, she dared to dart a slightly playful look his way. "However, one thing still remains unclear to me." She said.

"Which is it?" He asked, his voice telling her the challenge had been accepted.

"You are just sitting here, talking carelessly to a little mortal, while the infamous Iron Man is up there in Asgard?" Smiling, she gave him a curious sideways glance. "I wouldn't be so calm if I were you. Who knows what your realm may turn into while hosting Tony Stark and missing the king and his counselor at the same time…"

At that, Thor chuckled approvingly. "Don't worry, my lady, same horrific thoughts are constantly haunting my mind. Another reason to retrieve Loki and return as quickly as possible."

At that, the smile got a bitter taste on her lips. She lowered her eyes and clutched the sheets beneath her. Yes, they were leaving. It was right, it was meant to be.

Loki had come to thank her and unfortunately got captured in the process. Then Thor had come to set his brother free, but apart from that, they both had no other reasons to linger here any longer.

Thor had a great kingdom to rule now and for that, he needed his counselor by his side, too. And she had been naïve to hope for anything else. The gratitude had been expressed, the diplomacy was about to be solved and restored in a matter of hours. So, what else was there left to say?

"You'll miss him." Thor said then. There. He just could not be more accurate.

 _More than anything_ , she wanted to say, but remained silent.

She could feel his eyes demanding the answer. So she swallowed, her throat narrow and tight and burning. "Well, I…" she uttered in a tiny voice.

"Do you sometimes remember Asgard?" Thor asked indifferently, as if neglecting the previous statements. He observed his thumbnail dig into the helmet in his hand.

Jane inhaled. "Yeah." She sighed then, struggling to sound relaxed and casual, but failing miserably. She nodded her head, her watering eyes still avoiding him. "I guess you just cannot simply forget – "

"Then return with us. With him." He burst out immediately, not even letting her to breathe out.

"I…" she risked a look at him eventually. Her eyes were gleaming. His were determined.

"He loves you." He said softly, yet with a certain amount of urgency.

"I know." She gasped, her voice faint.

"And he will until his last breath." Thor added, leaning forward. "He would cherish every moment spent with you, Jane. He… If there's someone able to keep his mind from breaking apart ever again, it's you." He shifted, got up to his feet and walked slowly toward her.

"I'll understand if you choose to stay where you feel your home is," he resumed quietly, yet steadily. "Nevertheless, I appeal to you as Loki's brother. Please, judge carefully every option." He reached out and held her hand when he stood right in front of her bed. "I'll leave you with your thoughts now and come for your decision later. Choose well." He said and let go.

And her tears were finally free to run down her cheeks in hot streams as the door closed behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the grand finale.

_That reputation that you live by  
Says something about what's inside  
Nowhere to hide  
There is no amount of heartache  
That could ever  
Wash over this burning  
Forever learning_

_Look in the mirror  
Will you do it all again_

_You got time on your side  
You know you'll find  
The truth within you  
You got time on your side  
As the seconds tick away  
Love is waiting for you…_

* * *

Jane was climbing up, up the stairway to the sky.

She smiled softly at the thought. Well, it was just another deck, another of the countless Helicarrier's chambers, wasn't it? Yes, at times, it was.

But not tonight. Tonight, the 'Eye to the Sky', one of the highest places of the ship was given a chance to do its name some justice.

She did not rush. Her strides were measured and vigilant, her footsteps soft and silent. She had a certain weight to carry on her shoulders, after all. Not literally of course, but there was a choice she had made a few hours before. And she would not feel relief before the words were finally allowed out of her mouth.

And so she denied herself a moment of rest in the mezzanine floor and defiant, continued her quest up.

She had been given her clothes back, clean and fresh; including the entire pocket's content, to her great surprise. So she had dressed back, except the thick green coat and sweater. Just the high-boots, white tights, brown skirt and soft green blouse would suffice.

Now, just the final stairway and she would reach her destination. She let out a quick breath and slowed down her pace. She intended to set her breathing at least a bit before entering the room. However, the physical strain did not matter anymore. The closer she came the faster her heart was beating, no matter how hard she tried to calm down. She stopped before the door, hesitating. All she had wished for was to enter, but now as she reached her goal, the shadows of uncertainty crawled at her. Holding a breath, she hung her head slightly, the eyes sliding shut.

All the memories of the previous day reemerged in her mind, and along with Loki's memories she had been allowed to see in her dreams they began to flow around her. The images whirled slowly and stirred as they mingled with the memories of the New York City shattered by Loki's army two years ago. And with the remembrance of The Destroyer's attack on Puente Antiguo.

 _He's an unmerciful killer. The one who respects nobody else but himself. A lost soul._ Frowning lightly, Jane remembered her first impressions of Loki Laufeyson.

Then, the beautiful landscapes of Asgard stood in front of her, spreading across her vision. She remembered her happiness, the joy of finally standing by Thor's side. All she had ever wished for. A wonderful dream. Her own, personal fairytale.

But one dark night, a sudden, silent moan of desperation and deep agony had torn her fairytale apart.

It had filled her nights with quickened heartbeat, restless mind and cold sweat. It had cast a shadow on her otherwise sunny Asgardian days. And with each passing night she had spent sleepless, listening to the mysterious voice, walking her chambers and empty, dark corridors searching for the answer, she had grown more and more desperate, and her mind more unstable. She had had to know who it was. She had had to find out before she would go insane. But Thor would not say a word. And so the unbearable sounds of lamentation so painful, and yet so patient, had kept raiding her dreams. Again and again. Over and over. She could have heard it in her sleep; she could have heard it in her wake. Sometimes it had her wondering if she was the only one able to perceive it. But whatever the answer could have been, she had felt she was meant to do something. And her premonition had come true eventually. Her dreams had taken her there, to the mysterious dungeon, to the source of the painful noises. And she saw him, broken and resigned.

 _The one whose eyes were forbidden to see. The one whose mouth was forbidden to speak. The merciless killer, enduring a merciless punishment. A broken soul,_ she had thought then, and had stepped forward to ease his pain just as little as she could.

Yes, she had been rather aware that an accusation would follow. The scenes from her trial and banishment from Asgard lingered for a moment before her eyes.

The last look in Thor's eyes. The one last look at the cruel Realm Eternal before letting the Bifrost take her back to Earth.

Then, the cold winter night, the freezing breeze stinging her cheeks. The obliterating green eyes looking in hers. Thoughtful and deep. Yearning.

The cold taking over. His skin turning blue as the flower of ice grew in the little girl's hands. The crimson orbs looking at the small child. Anxious, waiting. Sincere. And the child's eyes, looking back unafraid.

_The one who gives joy through his mischief. A soul filled with hope._

The soft voice reciting a poem, a train of words flowing with a beautiful rhythm. The delicate fingers, brushing away her tears. The gentlest of lips, kissing her…

" _He loves you."_ Thor's words spoken with certainty and urgency. _"If there's someone able to keep his mind from breaking apart ever again, it's you…"_

She breathed. A lungful of air was allowed out finally.

"He loves me." Jane whispered then, as if trying to capture and summarize the blur of images and voices that had invaded her consciousness.

A jagged breath followed. A hand shot up and pressed against the breastbone as if to prevent it from moving so quickly. The lower lip was chewed, the eyes closed firmly. And then, inhaling suddenly, like she had been drowning all of her life, she found the guest ID card, slid it through the recognition device, and pushed the button – and the doors opened for her.

As she entered the dark room, the sensors sent the signal to the blue lights in the lower corners of the room, so she could see at least the silhouettes.

One entire wall and the ceiling were made of pure glass that allowed the starlight come through intact. The other walls and a few pieces of furniture were dark, as the soft carpet beneath her feet.

She could see the shapes of the comfortable couch and armchairs, then a simple counter and several small chairs standing on tall, slender metal legs…

And with one shoulder leaned against the glass wall, across the room, stood a tall, dark figure. His hair was long and straight except the twirled ends – Jane remembered it as smooth and black as a raven's feather. His face was barely visible, illuminated just by the starry sky and the faint light of the crescent moon, but she could see he was watching her.

She made a step forwards and the next instant, she forgot completely the entire speech she had prepared for this situation. Her heart leapt and her eyes squinted around the dark space. _How could I..?_

Several moments of intense silence followed. Then she remembered to put the ID card back into her pocket. And she moved. Gradually, step by step, little by little, she approached him. Warily, carefully, until she stopped right before him. He straightened, never taking his gaze away from her.

Another endless moment of silence. Meditative and crackling. She dropped her look.

"The stars are surprisingly bright viewed from here. And beautiful." He pointed out then, his tone low and casual – as if he were a scientist taking a brief personal notice of a natural phenomenon.

"Yet, what must have happened in the sky that one of them came to pay a blackened soul a visit herself?" He added, nearly whispering.

Jane looked up. She wanted to sink in his eyes; she wanted to reach out…

"Perhaps," she began quietly, "she just wanted to say something, and she wanted to be heard."

He viewed her, a hint of confusion and curiosity reflecting in the shimmering green. "I was told I would meet someone with an important message." Loki resumed, his voice soft, his mind wondering.

"Yes." Jane nodded, looking down. "That is true."

He stared back, his look questioning and anxious, but he said nothing.

"I was asked to make a decision." Jane said then. "And now I am here to tell you."

"Me?" Loki asked, the aching uncertainty threatening his eyes.

"Yes." She smiled.

"Jane." Holding her by the shoulders, he urged suddenly as if realizing something important just then. His eyes were wide as they roved restlessly, searching her face. "First of all, please, let me apologize to you. For everything. I am so sorry for all this. I did not intend to bring the matters to this point. I should have been more careful; should have paid more attention to your safety... I troubled your mind. You were imprisoned–"

"No!" she exclaimed to stop him, a light, honest chuckle accompanying her voice. "Loki, please." Searching his bewildered eyes, and taking hold of his forearms, she smiled softly again. "I'm _glad_ that you came."

Lowering her gaze, he almost slipped into a murmur as she laid one gentle hand on his heart. "Can you imagine how relieved I was when I saw you there in my garden? You were there…" her voice trembled a little at the sensation of his fingers brushing softly against hers. "You _lived_." Jane stressed out then, revealing what her life-line had been made of the whole time.

"I did." he barely whispered. "But tell me now. Why?"

"Why?" Looking up and into his eyes, her throat tightened, and the tears started to build up in her eyes. "I just… I could not bear the mere thought that you were going to endure this for the next… What? Months? Or years?" She paused then, closing her eyes. "I wanted you to _see_ again. I wanted you to walk and breathe, to look up at the sky. Before you would…"

"Jane, I – "

"When we walked together in the evening, back in Norway, you asked me what I wished for. And I said I wanted your heart filled with light, do you remember?"

"Yes." He breathed, his heart and soul on the edge, his fingers trailing the soft lines of her face.

"Yes." She echoed. "But you complained about your star shining from a too far distance on you."

"I did." A whisper reached her ears.

"And… You see, my answer is still the same." She claimed then, the words lingering between them. "I just – I need to get some issues done, I need to hand over my research – but then…"

She could literally see his pupils widen. His eyes sparkled at her words, and shone brightly at the full realization. Two slender hands were brought up to cradle her face.

"My star," he said, his voice shuddering, his eyes blazing, "you will stand and shine beside me?"

"I will." She blinked, relieved now that the decision had been declared, two beads of salty liquid trickling down her face. In one flash of a moment, he leaned close. Throwing his arms around her, he held her tightly, as close to his heart as possible.

She felt his body shiver as she clutched at his shoulders and buried her face into his chest. And she stayed like that, listening carefully to the overwhelming rhythm of his racing heartbeat and quickened breath. His fingers mingled with her soft hair, yearning and relentless. His lips whispered words against her ear, words she understood so well.

And so they stood there, holding each other for dear life. Seconds, minutes, maybe even hours had passed before the watchful moon wandered past the glass wall and left them in the complete dark.

Just then, a thought came to her. For a split second, she wondered what was happening with the others down on the lower decks. However, those musings were dispersed shortly. His breathing calmed and he pulled away slightly.

Jane opened her eyes, seeing almost nothing. Her eyelids started to flutter, but then a soft thumb ran over her lower lip. She looked up into the darkness. The stars twinkled above a shadow. One hair-strand with twirled end rubbed gently against her neck.

A quick breath and then his lips. Delicate but demanding; gentle but determined. It almost felt like their first kiss the other day.

Almost.

There was a certain difference now. And they knew it. Because now, he held nothing back. There was no apprehension, no hindrance. And so he drank from her lips like a wanderer after years of walking the vast desert. And she gave in gladly.

* * *

Her head and the ground beneath her felt like spinning. Although she was lying on the floor, everything appeared fluid and unstable. A forefinger ran down her temple as she shifted a bit against Loki's shoulder.

"Is it comfortable?" He asked then.

"Yes." She answered promptly, nuzzling into the fine leather of his clothing.

Then she felt his head turn to her. "Now then. That's a rather interesting approach to stargazing, Ms. Foster."

She giggled against him; then turned on her back slowly and looked up to the stars above.

"You said you did not wish to leave your work unfinished." He began after a moment of content silence.

"Yes." She agreed, somewhat unsure where this conversation would lead to.

"It is reasonable. And responsible of you." he stated then.

"Oh." She sighed with relief. "Thank you."

"What is it?" He asked, apparently noticing the hint.

"You see," Jane whispered into the dark room, "I was just somewhat worried that you might not like it. Much."

"Jane!" he exclaimed with a light chuckle. Such a wonderful sound. "What do you think of me? Of course I'd rather you stayed with me from this day on, but things should not be left unfinished. I know it would bother your thoughts."

"Yes, it probably would." She admitted, shifting her weight a bit closer.

"Can you tell how long it will take?" He asked then.

"I'm not sure. Weeks, months maybe." She fell silent there, and turned to him. "To be honest my determination deserts me at the thought."

Placing a gentle hand on his chest, she sighed nearly inaudibly. "I start to feel tired and lonely even as we talk about it." She murmured.

His fingers ran softly up her forearm and then held her small hand. "I feel very much the same." He whispered back. "But I promise always to find time to see you during my missions to Midgard."

She smiled. Shortly, before her joy turned into confusion. "What? Missions?" she turned on her belly, rose a level and propped herself on her elbows. Furrowing her eyebrows she squinted to find and focus on his eyes. He understood and made the floor lights glow a mild white.

"That's odd, you know." Jane grinned, wondering aloud. "It just seemed to me that the SHIELD weren't actually happy to see you back on Earth." She pointed out upon noticing his orbs glittering and waiting for her reaction.

"That is a precise observation, my lady." He pointed out slyly and turned on his side, bringing up the right hand to support his head. "However, I'm afraid that from now on the Midgardian representatives will have to welcome my presence now and then. As a result of toady's alliance talks, they should. Happy or not."

After a stunned moment, she laughed, rubbing her palms against her face. "I was thinking about the revenge on SHIELD you'd come up with, you know. But it seems you've outdone my wildest imagination."

"Please, my lady." Closing his eyes theatrically, he drew his other hand to his chest. "You honor me too much. However, my revenge plans could not be possibly considered perfect without your final contribution."

"Mine?" she asked with another chuckle, touching her chest as well.

"Of course. The midgardians would not be the only unhappy ones. Having to face them, I'd be quite unhappy myself. But with you staying in this realm, I shall have a reason to look forward to. Unlike them." Raising his dark brows, he smiled her way in a cunning, victorious manner.

"What a flawless plan, my prince. And of course I am utterly delighted to be able to help." Tilting her head slightly, she returned the smile.

"Of course." He agreed, and then narrowed his eyes. "How do you say it on Earth – 'Welcome to the dark side'?

She was forced to bow her head with another chuckle, placing the insides of her wrists against her forehead.

"What? Was it wrong? Because I'm quite certain I've heard this phrase several times. And I'm quite certain I understand the meaning."

"Well… Yes, but…" Putting her palms together in front of her face, Jane looked up finally, studying him. "I just did not expect you to say it, that's all." She explained and rested her chin in her hand. And remaining still and unmoving, she kept observing him. His beautifully curved features, his delicate, dark eyebrows, his eyes, deep and thoughtful and wicked and wise, every possible quality she could think of, the eyes she was going to look into for the rest of her days. Her heart literally skipped a beat and then raced at the thought. She could feel the rush of blood in her cheeks, and so, as he brushed away a hair strand from her face gently, she leaned in and kissed him.

This one was measured and reassuring, and altogether unbelievably gentle.

His fingers remained entangled with her hair when they pulled away.

Her eyelashes brushed against his skin.

"But I was thinking" he spoke after a while, his quiet voice pouring over her face, "that maybe we could return to Asgard together after all."

"For a few days, yes." She agreed hesitantly.

"I'd like to announce our engagement." He revealed softly then, letting his fingers glide over her shoulder. It was basically a statement, but Jane could sense the shadow of a question in it.

"Of course." Caressing his cheek gently, she replied after a short moment.

"I will be most likely busy with arranging the documents together with Thor and the rest of the council, but I promise to find you each day, if just for a few moments. It should not take longer than a week and you may return to Earth. With Stark." It sounded as though the name left an unpleasant taste on Loki's tongue.

Jane could not suppress another giggle. "I'm sorry." She uttered then.

"There's nothing to be sorry for." He stated and cleared his throat. "I cannot say I incline to the thought of Stark running loose around Asgard, I must admit though that the idea was brilliant. I had a hard time believing it was Thor's."

"And how much do you incline to the idea of Tony Stark escorting me back to Earth?" She asked with a challenging smile on her lips.

"Not at all, of course." He claimed somewhat half-heartedly. "But if nothing else, I can rest assured he won't harm you. Should something happen, he might even protect you." He nearly murmured.

"You seem to know him better than I do." Jane replied, smiling slyly.

"We had a brief conversation. Somewhere in the past." The image of the fashionably furnished room, the counter and the genius scientist behind it showed up in his mind. Then the ringing sound of the golden scepter against the glowing arc reactor. And then, the shattered glass… "Yes, quick it was. But although I was not allowed in, I was still able to look into his heart."

"Well, that's an unreachable dream of many women, do you realize that?" Jane teased gently, bending her knees and swinging her feet back and forth in the air.

"Perhaps I should trade some of the information to Miss Potts then?" he grinned lightly. Their synchronized chuckle followed.

Resting his forehead against hers, Loki sighed. "To summarize what I saw, he's hiding too many things. Too many for his own good. And no matter how much alcohol, it won't wash away."

"No, it won't. I guess." She added, somewhat absentminded.

A long, silent moment passed between them until he drew in a breath and spoke again. And it seemed like something heavy started to spread over him. His voice was strangely cautious and distant.

"But tell me now, Jane, do you know how that encounter with Tony Stark ended?" he said, and waited.

"Yes." Wondering and anxious what to think about it, she answered eventually. "Yes. I do."

"Say it, please." He demanded.

"Loki, I…" feeling the warmth and joy dissipate into the air, she hesitated.

"Say it, Jane." He repeated sternly.

And she started to speak. "Tony Stark was thrown out of the window." She uttered, looking down, her eyes wide, unblinking.

" _He was thrown_. How unflattering." Loki scoffed.

"But," she added swiftly, "he had been ready for it. He-"

"He was lucky. But I've done much worse, Jane." He stated then; sat up and turned his side to her. She followed his move and knelt beside him, sitting on her heels.

"Loki –" she whispered, reaching out to touch him. But he shook her hand off his shoulder and hung his head, and leaning against his bent knees, he entwined his long fingers behind his scruff.

"I killed, Jane." He resumed then, his trembling murmur spreading around the cold room. "Even aboard this very ship. I sent my brother plummeting to earth. I slaughtered the agent, the one you knew. I unleashed the Chitauri hordes on the city and just watched the mayhem, unable to stop it."

His words burst out of him in painful doses of undeniable facts. And she sat there, stunned, confused. Her hands, palms up, lay helplessly on her thighs. Her mouth slightly open, she stared at him, her heart throbbing with the sudden pain. She was not looking at him anymore. She looked through him, watching the well-known scenes again and again in her mind. Death and destruction, fire and dust, smoke and misery. But she knew. She realized his crimes. She was aware who was sitting before her. How many times had she recalled all those memories and thoughts? Just how many hundreds of times?

"Jane." He barely whispered. "Please, Jane, please…"

It was the despair in his voice that brought her back. She reached out once more. This time he would not stop her.

"Loki." She began warily, but softly. "I know what you have done. You don't have to repeat that anymore. Yes, it was horrible; unspeakable." He trembled under her touch.

"Yes it was." She continued, though. "And you suffered an unspeakable punishment for it." She swallowed and looked around quickly, as if trying to find a help, a support. "But… But the most important question is – would you do that again? Or you truly regret what happened?"

Silence.

"Please, Loki, answer me!" pleading, she cried out, her eyes filling with hot tears again. Trying hard to suppress her quick, shallow breath, she drew nearer as to not overhear even the slightest sound.

"I never cared about mortals." He began quietly. The matter of course of his voice was freezing and cutting deep. But nevertheless, she listened, stiff and still.

"I considered their lives meaningless. Pointless compared to the ages of the universe. The mere flickers in the dark, too weak, too shallow, and unable to linger a bit longer to change anything." He continued, his voice as brilliant and clear as ice. "Therefore I never cared. Therefore I never as much as twitched the corner of my mouth as the lights of their lives had been extinguished."

"The first thing I came to regret during my punishment was my grand treason, the appropriation and abuse of the Casket and the Tesseract and the conspiracy with Chitauri. The main crimes I had been in fact accused of and judged for." He revealed with a disdainful snort. "No, please do not think that all the wasted mortal lives were as much as mentioned during my trial." He uttered a bitter, biting side note.

"I regretted going against Thor, betraying his trust and hurting the love he always had for me. Because I realized that none of what I ever had craved had brought happiness to me. Did the revenge on Jotunheim or possession of the Casket or the Cube bring me joy? Satisfaction? Or warmth? Or happiness? No. There was just void. A blackness that threatened to swallow my whole existence and embrace me with the insufferable cold of the endless pain. And I realized that Thor had seen it all. He never cared about the items or the Chitauri or whatever. He cared about me. He worried about my soul. He wanted me back and everything else could have just burn to dust. But I started realizing it when it was too late. At the day of the execution of my punishment, the shock of pain and humiliation had opened my eyes. I sensed it. The wild storm that day… I sensed Thor in it. Everywhere – in the wind, in the clouds, in the rain that poured over me, like he had forced the sky to shed his tears instead of his eyes. At that time, I started to realize, and I started to regret." He paused there and rubbed his face. So slowly and wearily it felt like his hands weighed tons. Then he looked up to the night sky.

"The first time I started to concern mortals was when I was told that the woman who had visited me was a little mortal herself." His head almost seemed to turn slightly in her direction at the reference. "It was… astonishing. I did not have a clue what to think of it. I used to stand on the balcony or wander through the gardens for hours and days; astounded and wondering. I was trying to remember you, to recall the memory of your face. I kept dreaming of you. What it would have been like to meet you in those gardens. To see you. To feel your hand on my face again…" Still halfway turned from her, avoiding her gaze, he lowered his eyes.

"The next time I truly started to think over the human lives was the last night, while I was still kept prisoner. I remembered him. Coulson. And I… I think that's where I started to feel the real guilt and regret. I regretted killing him and the others. Because of you."

"Me?" Jane frowned.

"Yes." He agreed silently. "Because I know it must be worrying you. It makes you sad. Your heart may be filled with emotions towards me but in the end, it will always sink at the realization of what I've done and what criminal I truly am."

"You are? Or you were?" Jane questioned then, her voice quiet but firm.

He let out a long, trembling breath at that. And turned to face her, his eyes gleaming and unreadable; threads of tears marked his cheeks. "I don't want to be." He said in the end. "Please, Jane, help me achieve it. Help me prove it to us both." He requested quietly.

A breath came. And the words, a sentence that harbored light inside. "You know the answer." She said.

"I know." Searching her eyes, he uttered eventually. "Though I still wonder why."

Sighing a weary laugh, she straightened in her kneeling position and leaned over to him. "Stop those foolish thoughts. I've told you already." She whispered, cupping his cheeks and brushing the tears away, then placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. His hands went to her waist.

"I guess you did." He murmured softly against her collarbone. "It is just still too unbelievable to me. There's no happy ending for monsters. There's never been."

"There's a happy ending for everyone who's looking for one." She said, whispering against his hair, running fingers through the raven tresses. "Regardless if it's an immortal or a human."

"I am none of it."

Jane froze. Yes, she knew. She had known for so long. And she felt that he might have accepted the truth about his origin, but deep inside it would always be there, present and threatening, looming over his existence forever more. He'd never forget.

"I'm aware of it." She said and sat back down on her heels. Staring down, she finally took his hands in hers. "But for me you are no Asgardian. No Frost Giant. No god, no human, no mortal or immortal."

She squeezed his hands firmly as their eyes met. The brown ones, gleaming and full of sun and summer like a dark honey, and on the other side, a pair of orbs as red as a freshly spilled blood and crystal-clear like a polished ruby.

Shifting to his knees, he pulled her up to him. "Who am I to you, Jane?" he asked, his voice freezing and smooth like a shadow, the sharp fangs glinting minutely. Shortly, but long enough to notice.

She realized his hands were cold now. But not as cold as they said a Frost Giant's hands should be. They would not give her frostbite. They felt different, like a cold rivulet in the northern mountains.

Viewing him intently, her eyes marveled at the fascinating lines that adorned his skin, curving beautifully as though they had a meaning. Yes, they had; she knew. And so she brought her hand up slowly and traced them, her fingers running over his forehead, down his temples and cheeks, his neck… Her fingertips felt completely numb from the cold he radiated when she reached his collar. But she did not care. It was the sweetest ache she had ever felt.

She parted her lips then, her breath turning into steam between them. "You are Loki." She whispered. "The one I love."

And looking up and into his eyes again, she saw something glimmer inside them. Like the tiny, slowly descending snowflakes in the winter, when there's freezing outside at night. By then she realized how quick and shuddering her breathing was. And she was not sure if the cold or her excitement was the cause. Perhaps both options were right.

And like back then when he had appeared in front of her house in the night, he did not have to say anything. Just these magical reflections in his eyes and his tight grip on her waist were enough. Reaching out, she touched his lower lip, and caught a bead of condensed air humidity on her fingertip. Then she realized he was all covered in dew, like the grass in the cold morning. She smiled and brushed the miniature droplets away from his face, and eventually stole a tender kiss from him.

"Love." He said then, closed the distance and claimed her lips once more.

* * *

The lights outside flickered and went on as Loki commanded the doors to open.

Jane had intended to use her borrowed ID for that purpose, but he had been faster with his magic and surprised her once more that night.

The brightness outside was slightly too sharp for her eyes that had adapted to the dark space they were leaving. When they stepped outside the room, he snapped his fingers and the doors closed behind them. Rather mindlessly, she brought up one hand and touched her lips. They still felt cold and numb, and near the corner of her mouth, there was a slight pressure, but that was nothing she would have cared about now.

Her eyelids fluttering, she blinked a few times and squinted around the place. And first thing she saw were Loki's wide eyes, now olivine-green again.

"What – what is it?" she asked, her lips slightly reluctant to move.

"I'm sorry-" He murmured promptly, reached down to level her face and cupping her cheeks, he seemed to focus deeply on a specific spot on her mouth.

"Shh." He sounded softly when she parted her lips to ask a question. Then, whispering words she did not understand, he ran his thumb over the spot. A tickling sensation pulsated up her skin and flesh. The numbness disappeared.

He smiled.

Searching his cunning eyes she returned the smile, a bit confused though. "What was the meaning of this, Mr. Laufeyson? My mouth felt just a bit cold, that's all."

"Let's… say that kissing with fangs should be conducted with more caution. That's all."

She blinked, her grin widening a fraction. "You bit me, did you?"

"Maybe." He stated carefully, the smile tugging at his lips. "Maybe not."

"Come on! It's safe to tell me." She grinned childishly and put her hands together behind her back. "I won't bite you back, promise."

"But tell you what? There's no proof of anything anymore." He explained.

"But you're not denying it."

"I'm not _confessing_ it." He corrected with an undeniable hint of tease in his voice.

She watched him; her lips parted slightly, the shadow of a smile lingering over her features. "Tell me, Silver Tongue, is there any point in having an argument with you?" She asked, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Not really, my star." He grinned fully this time and leaning in, placed a soft peck on her nose. "I am truly sorry, Jane." He continued in a quiet voice. "Everything is different and more intense when I wear my Jotun skin. I must have given in too much." he held her small hand in his and looked down. "It won't happen again."

"That's all right, Loki." She said and brought up one hand to stroke his cheek. "Besides, what's wrong with your memory tonight? I said it didn't matter to me. I love you as you are, with everything that goes with it. You don't have to hide your true skin from me. I do not hate it, I do not despise it. I love it as everything else about you."

"It hurts you." He breathed.

"Trust me, Loki, if I felt hurt I would have let you know."

"Would you?"

"Yes!" she called out and held his face with both hands. "So please stop worrying about it."

He smiled at her. "As you say, my lady." He said, relieved, and kissed her mouth.

Yes, the previous kiss had been intense. Like a cold wind in the winter. Like the frost, biting and cutting the skin.

This one was warm. Like the midday sun stroking a summer forest. And compared to their other kisses, this was the most passionate. He pulled away, and then claimed her mouth once again. And again. And again…

He earned a moan of delight from her. And surprisingly, he slowed down at that and loosened the grip around her. His hands were drawn up to her face, and brushing away the stray tresses of soft hair, he swallowed and just breathed against her skin.

Synchronizing her breathing with his, she ran one gentle hand over his hair and nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

"Perhaps… We should be heading down and joining the talks." She spoke then, regretting the words she had to say.

He drew in a lungful of air, and then exhaled heavily. "Surtr burn the talks." he spoke into her hair.

"Well, uh…" her eyes snapped open and she let out a little laugh against his skin. "That's one of the options."

"No, that's the only option." He muttered, and paused.

"Yeah." Jane sighed and closed her eyes again. It was kind of refreshing and new to experience this stubborn and lazy side of the feared Loki Laufeyson. "But what about your king? He might be in trouble without his loyal counselor." She murmured in a teasing tone and turned her head to nip at his neck.

"Mhm." he hesitated, apparently smiling to himself. "Perhaps someone should prevent the oaf from exploding with impatience and smashing the whole party into one piece."

She giggled. "You should not speak of him like that."

"Quite the opposite, my lady. Someone should always remind him." He said and brushed his chin gently against her hair.

"Of course." She agreed. "But it seems to me that he became much more reasonable and measured. And eloquent." She pointed out, grinning roguishly. "Haven't you noticed?"

"Maybe…" He nodded his head minutely.

"Come on." She protested. "I guess he should have changed somehow after swallowing half of the serpent's heart."

"Well..." He admitted and paused, confused. "How did you know?" he asked and pulled away slightly to look at her.

"I saw it in my dreams last night." She confessed quietly.

"What else did you see?" he asked softly, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs.

"Everything, I'd say. The first day of your punishment, the rain… my visit in the dungeon… Thor saving you and taking care of you… your fight with the snake… your little discussion about me in the garden. I don't know why, but I witnessed it all."

He kissed her forehead. "Apparently, it was not just Ms. Romanov who listened to that story I was telling."

"You told her?" she asked, a quick shadow of a frown passing her features.

"Yes. Does it bother you?"

"I don't know." She dropped her look and paused. "Perhaps I would have preferred that you told _me_ in the first place. I was kind of waiting for it the whole day we spent together, you know?" She rested the side of her head against his chest. He embraced her, and held her close to his heart.

"I should have." He breathed.

A moment of content silence passed. Then she shifted a bit and spoke again. "I know it's going to be boring, but maybe we should be heading down after all."

"Yes, but let me express my disagreement about the boring part." He said and pulled away. And just before he slipped out of her arms, she felt tickling as his reappearing cape brushed over her hands and fingers. His golden armor shone as it reflected the lights.

She blinked, an unspoken question frozen on her lips.

"Come, my lady. Time to demonstrate a very interesting use of this cape." He prompted as he walked to the stairway, held the fabric around him and sat on the metal railing. Jane followed him, slightly hesitant, though.

"Come closer, have no fear."

"Are you implying we're going to slide all the levels on this railing?" her eyebrows went up.

"What else does it look like?" he returned the question, one dark eyebrow climbing up as well.

"Well, that's…" she looked down for a second. "I have to admit that there aren't many people who can say they slid down the railing aboard Hellicarrier." She mused aloud while approaching him and climbing on his lap.

"No, there are not." He agreed calmly, studying her.

"In that case…" she murmured, viewing the slope. "Just hold me tightly, will you?"

"Of course I will. But hold on to me, too." He chuckled then.

* * *

The sun was peeking out from behind the lazily floating clouds and the land below responded with a joyful song of eternal spring. It appeared as though the entire landscape was performing a continuous symphony of moving branches of the tall green trees, soft whispering of the leaves and grass blades, and lively chirps and warbles and cawing and croaking of thousands of various birds.

And it all made Jane feel an immense relief. She felt as light as a feather flying slowly above it all. She inhaled deeply, gulping the fresh air, relishing it. It was just so beautiful and enchanting she would have almost forgotten about what was happening below. Sitting nestled comfortably between the huge, twisted roots of an old great oak that stood atop the small ridge, she watched the progress of a most interesting archery challenge taking place in the wide clearing that spread in front of her.

There had been huge stones and massive boards of polished wood placed into the right interstices between the roots, so they served as a set of comfortable seats. A few ladies of the Asgardian royal court accompanied her and whispered vividly before the final shot of the second contestant.

The bowstring relaxed and the arrow was sent towards the moving target in the distance of about roughly sixty yards. A fair-haired, fashionably dressed warrior laughed, self-confident and satisfied, as he put down the bow and turned around to bow deeply to the cheering ladies.

Meanwhile, the servants pulled at the ropes and dragged the target to them. When it was retrieved, the blonde man turned to examine his shots. Stroking his bright, finely cut beard, he viewed the straw wheel covered with parchment with painted circles.

"Three tens, nine and a half, and nine. Try to beat this, dear lad!" He called out as he pulled out the long, slender arrows that marked the points. His bright, sky-blue eyes were pointed at the last contestant, a dark-haired man with a beard and mustache, dressed in a long, dark coat with long sleeves; his hands hidden in huge brown riding gloves.

"Nah! Dear ladies, let's see what the Man of Iron can do against the Fancy Musketeer." Tony bowed to the small audience, sneered and took the bow.

Fandral snorted lightly and twisted the pointed end of his mustache between his fingers. "How much was that an insult, Lady Foster?" he asked loudly, narrowing his bright blue eyes up in Jane's direction.

"Enough to deny him wine tonight." Jane stated matter-of-factly and darted a quick look at Tony. Then bit her lower lip to hide her smile.

"See?" retorted the Iron Man, viewing Fandral sideways. "This is exactly why the little nerds should be kept where they belong: in a big, dusty library with thick walls and heavy door they can't push open. Otherwise they become too bold and bossy."

"Perhaps I would have agreed, however, I am not certain if I am allowed to call the future Princess of Asgard a _nerd_." Fandral speculated, stroking the arrow gently.

Jane shifted in her spot at the curious stare of Lady Sif, who, as the very first contestant, stood beside the two men. She could literally read the question out of Sif's expression. _What are you going to say to that?_

"Of course you are." Jane answered graciously, a cunning smile playing on her lips. "But just once." She added with a slight edge. Lady Sif smiled lightly in agreement and turned her stare back to Fandral.

"Of course, my lady." The latter bowed his head.

"Meet me later, my blonde friend. We'll talk about handling women." Tony offered. "Properly." He added as Sif cleared her throat meaningfully. Glancing at the stern warrior beside him, Tony took an arrow, set it against the bowstring and aimed at his own moving target far in the distance.

"Pray tell, dear Iron Man, why have you chosen this long-sleeved coat and riding gloves for today? I remember you speaking rather fondly about the Asgardian dressing style. Then why did you choose to wear… this? Out of all the fine clothes you were provided with?" Sif spoke suddenly, stepping closer and disturbing Tony's focus.

"Yeah, I know. I wanted to honor your sight with the view of me dressed in soft velvet and leather as Mr. Fandral here, but you know, it was a rather cold morning today." Tony answered steadily, sending a swift shot right into the very center of the target.

"I'm an ill person, you see." He explained further while reaching out for another arrow. "And as such – " he pulled at the bowstring " – I have to take care of myself and dress properly." he uttered and released the second shot straight into the middle again. "Trust me, I'd love to let you admire me in your finest Asgardian outfit –" another three arrows, and another ten-points shots, " – just not today, dear lady. I know you're sad, but who knows, perhaps tomorrow I'll feel better." He said, rolling his eyes meaningfully, and then turned around. The unmistakable, victorious grin spread over his face, and he bowed deeply to the group of clapping, affectionate ladies around Jane, who clapped her hands rather carefully.

"Thanks!" he waved at them and winked. Then turned to Lady Sif and took her hand gently. "But of course, as compensation, I dedicate this splendid victory of mine to you, my lady."

"Of course, Mr. Stark." Sif replied harshly, caught his forearm firmly and with one quick yank pulled off his huge leather glove. The familiar golden-and-red metal glinted in the sunshine. "If only I accepted such gifts from the frauds and liars." Staring wildly, she declared and put her hands on her hips.

"There, there." Fandral shook his head. "Fifty points, and in vain."

"Wait! Just… What's the matter, guys? The agreement said I would not wear my Iron Man suit. Which –" Tony explained and took off the long coat, "– I have not taken this morning, as you can see."

Technically, he was right. Because there were just his gauntlets on his arms, and the necessary wiring connecting them to the arc reactor.

"No, no, no." Sif folded her arms. "You have. We all see it, it's undeniable!"

"If remember overhearing your deal correctly, it concerned the whole suit exclusively. And if my eyes are not betraying me now, all I can see are the gauntlets. And there was not a single word about the gauntlets alone." A mild, comforting, yet firm voice came from behind the tree. "Therefore, I fear we all stare at today's winner." Loki added, his confident, provoking smile plastered over his face.

"Hey, I was about to say the same!" Tony complained, facing the approaching Trickster and looking him up and down.

"I am quite certain you would. By your leave, I just put more grace into it." Loki replied calmly, his arms folded in front of him, his emerald eyes narrow and full of ice-sharp wit, exactly as Tony remembered them.

Blinking a few times, Tony recalled the well-known scene once more, and the sound of the golden scepter ringing against his arc-reactor echoed through his mind.

He never took his eyes off Loki and viewed him as he walked gracefully around the giant tangle of the oak roots, stepped up and stood before Jane Foster. The little woman beamed as the Mischief Maker offered her a hand. He helped her stand up and descend to him, and a strange expression took over his features. His eyes went wide at the sight of her face and his mouth tucked absentmindedly into a dreamy smile.

"I need your help, my lady." Loki said after kissing her tiny knuckles.

"Mine?" She asked, chuckling slightly. Obviously, she had not been expecting such a thing.

"Yes." Loki confirmed softly and pulled a roll of parchment from his robes. "Please, read carefully." He said and handed the item over to her. "I have been working on it three nights in a row, trying to think of as much as possible, but I fear it requires a proper revision." He explained.

"But what is it?" Jane asked, grinning.

"Read, my star." He said and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Then turned reluctantly and left her with the task. Next moment, he stepped down the ridge and headed back to Tony. Jane viewed her raven-haired fiancé for several moments before climbing back to her seat and unrolling the parchment.

"What do you want this time, your sweet Lordship?" Tony snapped as the taller man stood before him. He sensed a movement behind him, but Loki's raised hand was enough to stop it.

"You have never watched you language, did you Anthony?" Loki bubbled softly and gestured at someone in the distance.

"I never needed to. Sorry if it offends you, my Prince." Tony retorted, leaning on the bow and looking straight into the green orbs, unafraid and thoroughly impudent.

Loki viewed him back. And Tony was certain that if a fly crossed the crackling silence between them, it would fall down dead.

And then, just that simply, Loki smiled.

Tony frowned.

"A drink for the winner." Loki declared, took a small, decorated glass and handed it over to Tony. Then he took one, too, and let the servant pour the amber liquid into it. Tony's glass was filled as well, and the latter brought it up and against the sunlight.

And the sweet, enchanting smell could not have escaped his senses. "What is it?" Tony asked, distrustful, as he watched the golden and bronze glimmer through the glass.

"You have my word it is not poisoned, enchanted or anything else that would bother you." Loki answered, unoffended.

Tony brought the glass to his nose then and smelled the liquid inside. "Not bad." He admitted. "Brandy?"

"I believe you call it that."

"Hm." Tony shrugged. "Cheers, then!" he said and emptied his glass at once.

"To you, Mr. Stark." Echoed Loki and followed.

"Fascinating taste. However… What's this?" Tony asked, darting a look of disbelief at his counterpart and let a golden ring with a single rough green gem fall out of the small glass onto his gauntlet. The metal rang on the metal. "Are you sure this glass was intended for me?" he said and shot a meaningful glance in Jane's direction.

"Yes. I am quite sure." Loki nodded.

"Well, I'm somewhat honored, but I say no." Tony stated and tilted his head to the side.

"What a pity." The Trickster sighed. "Surely we would have plenty of… interesting times together. I apologize for the confusion but my intention was not to ask you to marry me."

"No?" Tony lifted his brown eyebrows in surprise. "I may start to feel sad in the end." He added, frowning again. "Either way, what does it mean?"

Loki smiled at that. "For the broken window." He said, bowed deeply and paced away.

"Wait! Is it… does it have a function? Hey!" Tony called after Loki's retreating form.

"Of course it has!" Not stopping, the latter turned around swiftly and called back. "Please, wear it all the time."

"And what is it?!" Tony asked once more.

"You'll find out yourself." Loki answered just before getting out of view.

* * *

Tony breathed out slowly. He almost expected his breath turn into steam in the cold night, but it did not happen. No, it was not that cold. It was not cold, it was not hot. It was just warm enough. Exactly as he expected this mild midnight air to be.

Nestled in one of the many seats within the giant tree roots, he took a sip from his glass of red wine, and viewed the peaceful landscape lit by the soft glow of the stars. Then he tilted his head back and stared up to the thick branches of the old, massive oak. The slowly dying candle above him had the shadows dancing up there - it appeared as though the limbs of the tree were performing a slow dance of their own. He could smell the wooden scent; he could hear the whisper of its branches. It was old, but very much alive. Everything here seemed to be. Much more alive than anything on Earth. Or so he thought. Or maybe, just maybe he had never cared to perceive it back in his realm.

The bright stars flickered through the moving sea of leaves. Millions of shining eyes, winking at him.

He sighed deeply and emptied his glass. His head spun. He could not tell if it was caused by all the enchanting scents, the whirling depths of the universe above or the wine itself. _Nah_. He was pretty used to alcohol.

But all those charms were not enough to stop the disturbing thoughts. Just one more day and one more night and he and Jane Foster would be returning to Earth. With documents of the interstellar importance.

_Yeah, whatever._

Shifting on the wooden board so he could lean on the giant oak root he took the jug, poured more wine and gulped it all at once. Then, finally content and reconciled, he rested his head against the wood and closed his eyes.

And he saw her. The bright, witty, always clear and cheerful eyes, blue and deep as the ocean. The bright, reddish hair. Her smile, intelligent and honest. Her long, elegant arms, her slender waist… She was too good for him. Too good for the damn Stark Industries. Too good to be an assistant. To good to be swallowed by the meaningless jungle of business. Too good for that world.

She belonged here, among the stars. Her beauty would shine here. She would be, finally, allowed to shine.

Finally.

_Pepper…_

"Tony." Her sweet voice echoed back. He could see her standing there, in front of him.

"Pep." He murmured and extended his hand to touch her. "I missed you."

"Wake up." She spoke softly and stepped closer. He held her hand. It was soft, slender and… cold.

He turned, forced his eyes open and frowned deeply. He squinted at the bright candlelight. Two olivine orbs watched him.

"It's you." Tony stated, primarily to himself.

"So it appears." Loki replied quietly.

"Yeah." Tony looked around, blinking. Then he sat up heavily, accepting help from the other man. "Uh… sorry." He uttered, watching his own hand still holding Loki's. "I thought I was home."

"I noticed." Loki said and then let go.

As he glimpsed at the soft candlelight, Tony realized it actually was not a candle. It was just a little shining sphere, floating in the air, accompanying its creator. Like a little, little star. He reached out. It was not burning. He tried to touch it, but it moved away. But just enough to evade his fingers. Then, as he brought his hand back, it followed. It seemed as if it stuck with his palm.

"You have fascinating pets." Tony pointed out, moving his hand up and down and watching the light copy his movements.

"Fascinating, indeed." The Trickster agreed, viewing the phenomenon. "They usually aren't that friendly, though."

"Same goes to their master." Tony mumbled almost merrily, smiling as he played with the little light.

"Hm." Loki sighed in reply, overlooking the note. "I don't see your new ring." He observed.

"You may not see it, but I wear it." Tony stated, his eyes following the light he was now pouring from one hand to another. "You know, Frodo-style."

Loki eyed him sideways, waiting.

Tony rolled his eyes and reached under his tunic to pull out a simple chain with the ring threaded on it.

"Good." Loki nodded. Then snorted to himself.

"What?" Tony raised one brow, tucking the item back.

"Frodo-style?"

"Story too long for the rest of the night." Tony sighed wearily. "But I suggest asking your princess."

"She's busy with something else now." Loki said, got up from his knees and sat on the wide bench.

"Is she now?" Tony asked, his dark brow climbing up again. "And aren't you supposed to be present?"

Loki cleared his throat at that and shook his head. "Later." He explained, smiling lightly to himself.

"I see." Mumbled Tony, and continued playing with the shining sphere.

"Actually, I sincerely hope she's asleep by now."

"As all the little girls should be." Tony acquiesced, cracking a smile. "Is it about the paper you gave her?"

"Yes."

"May I ask… about its content? Just briefly."

"Briefly," breathed Loki and rubbed his face with his palms. "It's a new science project."

"Science?" Tony echoed. "I thought you were from the 'magic' camp."

"I… _might_ have slipped to the dark side." Loki muttered in a confessing manner and cradled his chin in his palm, propping the elbow on his knee.

Tony snorted a chuckle. "Well, uh… And what is it about?"

"Space. Observation, exploration… It's written in the intentions of the alliance between our realms."

"And Ms. Foster is intended as a part of it, isn't she?"

"Yes." Loki admitted, rubbing at the fabric of his trousers. "The main part to be exact."

"Ah. How commendable of you." Noted Tony and paused to give his companion a long glance. "Does she like it?"

"I don't know." Loki snorted lightly. "She has not said anything yet."

"Well," Tony shrugged in reply, "I'm sure she does. I'll bet tomorrow she'll flutter around you with the paper filled with her comments and side notes flapping in her hand."

"You seem to know her more than I do." Loki objected, glancing over his shoulder.

"I'm just guessing." Tony muttered, and not returning the look, he made the light jump with the movements of his hands. "But if she's a nerd – and let's face the truth: she is – my prediction is correct."

Loki sighed tiredly. "You throw too many foreign terms on me."

"Yeah, sorry." Tony chuckled minutely. "Well, I used to be a nerd, too, for example. Now I'm just a lost soul." He sighed and let the light sphere go. Grabbing the jug of wine, he closed one eye and looked into the jar with the other, waving off the little light that was flying around his head now.

"No! Seriously?" Loki turned to view the other man suddenly. The light sphere leapt. A snap of fingers, and the jug vanished from Tony's hands.

"Hey!" the latter protested, darting an angered stare.

"Stop it, Tony. You should rest." Loki pointed out calmly.

"Aww, _'you should rest, Tony'_ …!" Tony made a face, his tone dripping with biting sarcasm. "Isn't that just cute from the one who threw me out of my window?" He retorted, closing in.

Loki watched, unmoving.

The dark eyes searched the green. For a long moment. Then blinked wearily. And looked away.

Eternity of silence.

"Okay." Tony managed in the end and made an attempt to stand up. "I go to sleep." He stated coldly, and got to his insecure feet somehow. But then, his hand shot up and caught onto the huge root as he staggered, his nails digging into the deep wrinkles of the wood. His legs felt like they had turned into rubber, they tripped over one another and Tony found himself falling down to the ground.

A jolt of pain shot through his elbow and up the arm. He turned, and saw that Loki had seized him, and held him firmly. Mercilessly.

Then, another pain as he was dragged back and up to the bench.

"Sit down, drunken fool!" Loki seethed through gritted teeth, pushing Tony into the wooden board. The little light leapt, shot up the tree and then down, somewhere deep into the entangled roots.

And all went dark.

Except the light glow of the arc-reactor. Tony almost could not see that pale face before him, but the silhouette was distinct. And he could sense the green eyes digging holes in him. However, he said nothing.

And so they sat in all but complete darkness, staring into it, unmoving like two silent statues.

After some time had passed and the stars above shifted a fraction, Tony realized he could see the well-known features clearer. And clearer… The light was back there. It almost appeared that it had gathered some courage again and decided to peek out of its nest between the oak roots.

And so Tony continued watching. Loki still gazed back, but there was something missing in his stare. His face was completely expressionless. His features set and tight. His eyes two stern flames of glimmering green, and all the symmetrical lines were ready to give nothing away.

Except…

Tony could not help his eyes dropping lower: to those little spots below Loki's eyes and around his lips. And he could not help but notice that the light moved closer, too, as if wanting to take a look itself. Then he glimpsed at the pointy end of the fang that hung on Loki's neck.

"How long have you spent in the dungeon? With that snake?" Tony asked then, not raising his stare.

"One year, three weeks and three days." Loki's lips moved. Just enough to make the words sound clear.

"Yeah." Tony breathed and finally tore his eyes from the tiny scars. "Yeah." He repeated and turned. The golden ring brushed against the metal of the arc reactor as he moved, ringing quietly.

The shining sphere floated slowly towards him again. He looked at it, then away into the mild night, letting it come closer.

Tony scratched his head then, the little light capering above him. He exhaled lengthily. "Don't you feel tired?"

"Of what?" Loki asked back, his voice indifferent.

"The day. The council. Me…" Tony shrugged. "Choose. Not that I care."

One weary sigh gave everything away. "I'm no longer in the mood for this." Loki stated then, got up to his feet, swift as a cat, and grabbing Tony by the arm, he gave a yank and made him stand up, too. "Let's go." He commanded and made their way around the great oak and the ridge and then up to the castle, the shining little sphere illuminating the path as it danced in the chilly air over their heads.

"Wanna join the archery challenge tomorrow?" Tony muttered all of a sudden.

It took a good few footsteps before Loki decided to answer. "As a contestant, or a target?" he asked, his smooth voice full of indifference.

Two, three, four steps… "I fear I might have started to incline to the first option." Tony said then.

Loki snorted back a muffled chuckle. "You don't wish for that."

"Unless…"

"Unless?"

"Oh!" Tony suddenly managed to bring them to a halt. How, he did not know. But with his own eyes gleaming with the veil of wine-induced elation, he looked straight into the curious green orbs before him. "I name you my champion." Tony declared and pointed a decided forefinger into Loki's chest.

The Trickster's eyes fluttered. "I'll pretend I did not hear that." he said mildly, with a drop of venom and sarcasm to his tone.

"Tell you somethin'." Tony continued, seemingly overhearing the warning as he threw his hands up and around Loki's face, shaking him. "I almost started to feel desperate as I have to omit the suit completely this time. But now it doesn't matter! You'll shoot for me, will ya?" He asked, his face beaming with urgency and a slight realization of the tragi-comical aspect of it all. "Come on. I know you wanna kick their asses as much as I do."

Completely motionless, as if frozen suddenly, Loki viewed Tony coldly. "Firstly, I can kick their asses anytime I please, and most certainly I do _not_ require your patronage over it." He spoke softly then, almost inaudibly, just enough for Tony to register the looming menace. "Secondly, get your filthy hands off my face and I might give it a thought."

Tony's eyes searched and watched before getting wide and radiant, his grin turning wicked and self-satisfied as ever. "When will you have time tomorrow?"

"Do not bother with it." Loki replied, his eyes turning away as he resumed ascending to the Castle.

"So… Just to make sure - does that mean you accept?" Tony asked, trying and partly failing at keeping pace with the other man.

"Get ready to witness the real humiliation," was all Loki had left to say. And something about the sound of it made Tony question the development. However, just for a split second.

ooOOoo

Tony breathed out a weight of a world just before the heavy wooden door closed behind him. He was prepared for the black darkness, but there was not.

"You." He said, cracking a sleepy smile at the shining sphere that floated in the air before him. "Well, know this: I have no idea how to feed you." He raised his finger. "You hear? No food from me."

The light leapt vividly as if it understood very well, and then set off and flew around the chamber, and then stopped lingering just above the huge bed.

"Okay." Muttered Tony, his crawling feet dragging him to the bed closer and closer. "But you turn the lights off." He insisted and fell sprawling on the sheets. However, the light kept lingering – almost stubbornly – right before his eyes.

"Mmh!" Tony growled, waved it off and turned his head to the other side. But the little light did not seem to give up anytime soon. It floated slowly over the dark-haired, ruffled head and stopped before the closed eyes. One eyelid half-opened. "What d'ya want?" Tony uttered tiredly, turned on his back and kicked his shoes off. With an enormous effort, he managed to get out of his pants, and tossed them away. He reached for the silky blanket and covered himself with it.

All those actions seemed to exhaust him so much he simply let his arms spread as they were, and his head slowly turned and rested on the pillow. And not minding the light anymore, he began snoring softly within a few moments.

The little light shrunk and dimmed above him. It lingered above Tony's face, as if studying him closely. Then it moved soundlessly and flew over the softly glowing arc reactor. It trailed a tiny circle and stopped right above the exposed golden ring. It floated above the jewel for a long time before slowly descending and melting into the green gem.

ooOOoo

The playful sunbeams tickled his eyelids. He pretended not to care, but then it began to burn white holes through his closed eyes. Tony let out a low growl, like a giant old bear waking up after a long winter. He turned around, kicking off the blanket damp with his sweat, and smacked his lips, satisfied with his magnificent plan how to escape the morning sunshine.

He intended to fall asleep again, but his mind disagreed. Scenes from the latest memories swam before him in a blur. The competition… the evening feast… Loki… the tiny dots around his mouth… the snake's fang… his forefinger pointed at the Trickster's chest…

His eyes flicked open. He blinked a few times quickly, and then turned on his back at one fling. _What time is it?_ His eyes wide open, he sat up and looked around the room. Then he swallowed, frowning deeply. His mouth felt dry as fire, his bladder so full it threatened to explode. How he hated those little morning paradoxes.

Frowning and yawning, he scratched at his head, and took a look out of the window. The sun was high on the sky. And if the archery challenge began at the same time as usual, it should be over by now.

 _Did Loki come?_ Tony wondered and looked up as the door swung open.

And let his jaw drop a fraction as his perfect copy dressed in fine black leather and bright velvet sneaked inside.

Tony blinked a few times. Again. "I'm supposed to sit on this bed…" he pointed out, staring his copy up and down and then checking if he still sat on the said bed.

However, Tony's clone did not seem to care about his confusion, he just listened carefully to the noises coming from the corridor, and then closed the door slowly and as silently as possible.

"Hey!"

The clone spun around and faced him. "Shut up, fool!" he spat, annoyed and frowning. "And get yourself out of the bed. Now."

Tony returned the frown, but then just could not resist his own glaring eyes and obeyed. "I know what's goin' on." he announced victoriously. "I'm still aslee – !" he squealed as his white tunic sparkled and transformed into exactly the same clothes his clone was wearing. Well, had been wearing.

Tony looked up then and saw no one else than Loki Laufeyson standing in front of the massive wooden door.

"Good." Loki said, viewing Tony from the top to the feet, before taking three long steps to stand right before him. One pale, slender hand held his. "Congratulations, Anthony Stark. You have just wiped the floor with the glorious Warriors Three at today's archery challenge."

"Oh."

"Oh, and your presence is desired at the King's council."

"Ah."

"Well, you should move."

"Yeah. Yeah, I… " Tony wrinkled his brows. "And isn't Loki Laufeyson's presence demanded as well?"

"Loki Laufeyson is already present." Loki explained, perfectly calm. "Now, by your leave, I am going to sleep for a while. I think it's well-deserved." He tilted his head meaningfully, let go of Tony's hand and moved swiftly to the huge bed.

And Tony watched him burrow in the sheets; then turned to the door, then back at Loki.

"Wait, I just…" He just felt perfectly and utterly perplexed.

"Just close the door from the outside, please." Loki suggested insolently, nuzzling into the blanket.

"Fine." Tony nodded his head and set off wearily. But as he strode through the door, he heard Loki call out. He waited, and then peeked back inside.

"It wasn't entirely insufferable to change places with you. I might have actually enjoyed myself." Loki proclaimed, viewing Tony with a bright green eye, his words partly muffled by the pillow.

"Uh… Yeah." Tony gave a shrug, not knowing what exactly to answer. "Just don't get used to it." He added promptly, raising a concerned brow.

"Just go!" Loki groaned.

Tony knew he had better go. However, there he lingered for a moment longer. "Well," he scratched at his temple, "Thanks… I suppose. But I'd like to witness it the next time." He muttered with something very close to a shadow of a smile.

"There's no next time." Loki retorted, irritated. "Now go and enjoy their furious stares instead of me."

"I thought you said Loki was present." Tony grinned.

"Out!" The Trickster shouted angrily. And the Iron Man, smiling faintly, let the door click closed.

* * *

_**4 months later…** _

The soft, soothing night air was full of obliterating scents, whispers of the trees and bushes of wild roses, and the distant sounds of delightful music. And in the middle of it all stood a tall figure, the vast and magnificent skies of Asgard high above him. His green cape moved softly and the plates of his golden armor reflected the distant firelights.

His mind had been dark and lost once.

But not anymore. Because this night, he was not alone.

There stood a woman in white in front of him, in the determined embrace of his arms. She might have been tiny compared to his height; however, she knew she would be always as bright and impossible to overlook as a star to him.

Jane could feel her heart racing against her breastbone. She almost felt like fainting, but Loki held her tight as he trailed gentle kisses down her jawline and neck. He had never kissed her like that before. It was so intense she was forced to wince at the sweet ache pulsating through her. Her parted lips brushed against his neck, her fingers ran fiercely through his black hair.

A light giggle sounded somewhere near them. Jane managed to open her eyes slightly and watched the lights of the great palace. "They might be looking for us." She breathed as he brought his head up to look in her eyes. "How – how long will the celebration last?"

"I don't know." He nearly whispered. "But… do you want to return to the feast?" he asked, his voice somewhat veiled.

Jane smiled softly. "No." she said, stroking his cheeks.

"Then come with me, my love." He breathed, and took her hand.

ooOOoo

_The beast seethed as it loomed over him, the coils around his weak body tightening bit by bit. He knew what he had to do, but there was no use, he couldn't. His arms and his legs felt stiff and numb, they wouldn't obey, no matter what. He jerked and twitched, bared his teeth back at the serpent's face, but that was all. Apart from that, he was just helpless, as though his limbs turned into lead._

_And so he was forced to watch the snake getting ready for the blow, the poison dripping slowly from the long fangs, the drops reaching for his skin, hurting him, burning him… He wanted to scream, but he couldn't. He couldn't._

_And then, the voice. Soft but adamant. He knew it. He knew whom it belonged to…_

Jane's eyes fluttered and then slid open hesitantly. It was still dark outside, the air fresh and mild as it got a little colder. Few rays of the dim lamplight were coming from the balcony and casted long, slowly dancing shadows on the floor.

She smiled to herself as she remembered where she was. Then she turned around carefully, letting the soft sheets slide over her bare skin. And she watched him. The once feared conqueror of her homeland. The slayer of her people. The ruler of her dreams. A soul closest to hers. Her husband. Her lover.

His breathing was quick, his pupils moved beneath the eyelids. He was dreaming.

It got much colder suddenly, and Jane frowned. His lips parted and a desperate moan made its way through. His body twitched.

"Loki." She called softly, reaching out to touch his face.

The eyes before her snapped open and viewed her wildly. The blazing red slowly melted into bright green.

"Jane." He rasped, his eyes still wide, and seized her hand, squeezing it tightly.

"It's been a dream." She said quietly. "Just a dream, my love."

He viewed her, his mind still lingering halfway in the realm of slumber. But then his breath calmed down slowly, and he relaxed.

A heavy sigh was allowed out of his lungs. Two gentle fingers ran over her forehead and cheek.

"I must be still dreaming." He noted silently, watching her with a sincere fascination.

Smiling knowingly, she pushed away a stray hair tress from his face. "We shared a lot of important dreams together, that is true. But now I'm sure it's for real."

"How do you know, my lady?" Taking her hand and kissing it gently, he returned the smile.

Nuzzling up against him, she giggled. "Please, don't make me explain at this hour."

"Then you are quite fortunate I trust you." He murmured into her hair and held her close. She let out a relieved sigh and sneaked her arms around his shoulders, holding him tight.

His breath shuddered softly. "Are you going to sleep?" He asked then, his voice strangely quiet.

Jane opened her eyes at the words and smiled to herself. Her lashes tickled his skin. "Why?" she asked back.

"Just – " he gave a slight shrug, "out of curiosity." He replied and ran gentle fingertips down her shoulder and arm.

She giggled merrily. "It's well past midnight, my lord." She pointed out, trying hard to maintain some composure as his fingers left electrifying sensation in their wake.

"Is it now?" he breathed, his hand moving softly the same way up and then down her ribs and side, to the small of her back, caressing her body gently.

Her breath quickened; her heart raced at his touch. Once again that night she felt completely defenseless. And as his hand wandered up her side again, the delicate but yearning fingers brushing over her scruff and grabbing fistful of her thick hair, she could not help a quiet moan. Clutching at his shoulders, she reached for his lips.

However, he pulled back slightly, just enough to evade her touch. She forced her eyes open and saw a wicked twinkle within the endless green of his irises. His parted lips were so close, teasing her. A roguish smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

 _And what do you think you're doing now?!_ She thought. "Are we going to sleep after all?" She said aloud, her voice clouded, her tone mildly complaining.

"Do you still want to?" he murmured, his voice full of tease, and reached down quickly to brush his lower lip over hers. For just a fleeting, exciting moment.

"Not anymore." She gasped, searching his eyes. And they sparkled her way, reflecting the sudden emotion. A smile of happiness and longing sparkled between them just before he let out a shallow breath and crushed their lips together.

And the dark was gone. The shadows rose up and dissolved. He was holding his little star now.

* * *

_Lay down now and close your eyes  
It's only just begun  
'Cause mind and body  
Flow in perpetual motion_

_Set free all your memories  
They're tearing you apart  
'Cause you know that  
Love is the only direction_

_(Uriah Heep – Logical Progression)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you, dear readers, for following, liking and reviewing this little Lokane story of mine :)  
> How did you like the end of this tale? Did it end well? 
> 
> And actually, we're not *completely* finished there. Expect an epilogue in the next few days! ;)


	5. Epilogue

_**30 years later…** _

Sigrunn pushed the heavy door of the wooden shack open and secured it with a stone she kicked toward it. Then she coughed lightly, covering her mouth with her wrist. She looked around the yard as the light wind tangled her long dark hair. The summer scents reached her senses and she had to fight the urge to close her eyes. Yes, it was summer, although in the shadows of the trees, there were still spots covered in dew or white frost as she looked at the soft grass.

The air was significantly clear and soft this Saturday morning. She breathed in, stretched her body lazily and wondered if some of the art admirers would climb here, to her home, to have a look at her paintings. She would have to wait until the end of July before her works could return to the city gallery. Of course she wasn't pleased with the procrastination in the reconstruction of the place, but well, it wasn't something she could decide.

However, it felt some kind of exciting here as well. Displayed in the shack, her paintings received a new perspective, a new point of view. She even played with the thought to move a part of the work here for good.

A movement roused her from the thoughts on the future. Well, her children had left for a summer camp, her husband was last seen reading newspaper in the kitchen, so…

A visitor. Yes.

She straightened for a better view. A young, short woman with chestnut hair stood in the opened wicket. She wore a simple white tunic and a pair of loose-fit jeans. And she was not alone. There was a girl in long green dress by her side, holding her hand. Her hair was dark as a raven and fell in slight curls to her waist. She inclined her head slightly and waved.

"Good morning!" the woman called merrily. "May we come in?"

"Yes, of course! The exhibition has been just opened, you see." Sigrunn smiled and gestured for them to come closer. "Good morning to you, too!"

"I've heard a lot about your art as we walked through the city yesterday." Said the woman when they stood in front of the shack. Her eyes were soft, intellectual and the color of dark honey. She looked straight into Sigrunn's eyes. And Sigrunn wondered where she had encountered her before.

"Are we going to see the paintings now?" the girl asked. Sigrunn estimated her age to be around nine.

"Of course, little curious one." Sigrunn promised and bent down to level her eyes. They were grey-green, cunning, yet mild as her mother's. "But may I know your name first?" She asked with a smile.

The girl grinned at that. "I was named after you." She explained.

"You were…" The older Sigrunn echoed, looking away suddenly. She straightened. "I… Maybe I'll ask stupidly but… Have we met somewhere before?" she addressed the mother of the child.

The latter smiled lightly and somewhat apologetically. "Yes, we have. But it's been a long time ago. You were even younger than Sig back then." She said and brushed a gentle hand over the girl's hair.

"Younger?" The older Sigrunn blinked in confusion.

"Yes. I mean…" the woman sighed, smiling somewhat nervously. "My name was Jane Foster. But – "

"Jane Foster." Sigrunn frowned, bringing her hands to her hips. "Yes. Yes I know. You worked at the SHIELD facility, am I right? You were discussed quite often in the city. And in the news from time to time. But then we moved and I've lost the track since then, I'm afraid."

"Well, I continued my research back in America and… a place even further." Jane smiled faintly. "Then I got a bit busy being a mother as you can see, but I'm still trying to look over the main projects and do something here and there."

"Yeah." The older Sigrunn nodded. "I understand, no worries." She grinned, but then the confusion took over her again. "But… Wait. It's been…" she let out a chuckle of disbelief. "It's been almost thirty years. I mean… I mean you look great. You – you haven't changed a bit."

"Yes, I – "

"That's because we live in Asgard." The girl stepped in.

"Uh – "Jane scratched at her temple, grinning insecurely.

"Asgard!" The older Sigrunn repeated blankly. "That… That would actually explain it. Yes." She nodded her head. And then chuckled to herself. "I'm sorry, I just still have a hard time to believe such place truly exists."

"It does!" the girl cried out.

"Yes. Yes I know, Sig." Sigrunn sighed in resignation and stroked the child's hair. "I know it does. Well… I have a wonderful cheesecake in my kitchen." She added, sounding more cheerful again. "What do you say? I believe we have a lot to talk about."

* * *

"So, here on this wall is the complete 'Sigyn's Flower' series. Well, not _completely_ complete, the very first one I keep in the house, it is not for sale, you see." The older Sigrunn grinned, all satisfied and proud as she gestured at a set of paintings on one of the walls, a series of variation of one flower motif. Her guests from afar listened carefully.

"I mean… It's great to learn finally where the inspiration came from. I always knew it had been something extraordinary, but Loki…"she shook her head, still smiling though. "That's just incredible." She reached for a lamp switch. "Now, that's better, isn't it?" she chirped, adjusting the light.

"Sigyn?" The girl asked, somewhat confused, her tiny dark brows furrowing. "Of Vanaheim?"

"Yes." Jane sighed and stroked the girl's hair. "Your father was once in love with her."

"And gave her the flower?" Little Sigrunn spun around instantly with a curious look in her eyes.

"Apparently." Jane confirmed softly.

"And when I was a little girl like you, I received the same, made of ice. But your father erased my memory of him, so there was just me and the blossom in my hand, and I was left there all perplexed as to where it came from." The big Sigrunn added, leaning down to the girl.

"It had me wonder about it for days and months. I might have even forgotten about it for some time, but only to discover it again in my paintings."

"So you started painting just because of that flower?" the young Sigrunn asked.

"I guess so."

"But that is great!" Little Sigrunn smiled. "Can we…" she bit her lip minutely as she turned to her mother. "…buy one?"

"Actually," Jane said, studying one of the paintings closely, fingertips on her lips, "I think that's one of the reasons we came here. Isn't it?" she asked, viewing her daughter sideways, a conspiratorial smile tugging at her lips.

"Yes!" the young girl beamed. "But which one, which one? I like that one in the corner." She exclaimed and pointed at the picture with a black silhouette of the flower on the yellow and green background.

"You seem to like green color, don't you?" the older Sigrunn asked, grinning. "And you can take it of course. Not buy. It's a gift, all right?"

"I – uh," Jane gasped a little, "You don't have to, really."

"I insist." The older Sigrunn declared, looking back at Jane and folding her arms before her. "And which one would _you_ choose?" she asked then, tilting her head to the side, curious.

"I…" Jane breathed, leaning one wrist against her mouth as she gazed at the paintings intently. "The one up there." She said and raised her hand to point at her choice.

"I see." Sigrunn nodded. "Not many people favorite this piece. They say it's too cold. But it's one of _my_ favorites, to be honest."

"It may appear cold." Jane admitted. "But just at the beginning. It grows warmer when you inspect it a moment longer." She went on almost quietly, eyes still fixed on the colors, the striking sapphire blue mingling with crimson. "Not to mention I have a weak spot for blue combined with red." She added, smiling softly.

They fell silent for a while.

"I give you both." Sigrunn revealed then.

Lowering her eyes and with a modest smile Jane turned to the other woman. "Please, Sigrunn – "

"Oh..!"

All the intended words had been stopped as the girl cried out. Covering her mouth, the little Sigrunn was staring at a painting that hung right in front of her, at her eye level. Then she turned to look at the two women, her face full of guilt, her eyes confused. She put her hands down eventually.

"What happened?" The older Sigrunn asked calmly.

"Nothing." The girl peeped, her big eyes twinkling in the lamp light.

"Sig, what did you do?" Jane stepped in and rushed to the picture.

"Nothing, mom. I just reached out and… it just…" Little Sigrunn flailed her arms in helpless gesture. Jane stood before the painting, which was another abstraction of the flower. It looked unharmed. She did not remember the view and the colors properly but there was nothing wrong in there at the first sight.

"My goodness…" the older Sigrunn gasped as she saw her painting.

"What?" Jane asked quietly.

"The colors."

"What's of them?"

"They are… reversed." The older Sigrunn explained, astounded.

"But I didn't want that. It wasn't on purpose, I swear it!" the little Sigrunn whined.

"I'm sorry." Jane said to the other woman, wrapping one arm around her daughter's shoulders. "It happens from time to time. We can buy that one, if it bothers you."

"Bothers me?" the older Sigrunn looked at them and lifted her brows. "I'm not – "

"I can try and fix it!" the girl offered, a pure hope in her wide green orbs.

"Sure. But the poor thing would sooner explode."

They all stopped and turned to the entrance as a new voice spoke calmly. And somewhat mockingly as well.

A young lad stood there, leaning lazily against the doorframe. Sigrunn guessed he could have been around fourteen. She was wondering who that might be at first, but one closer look at his face made it clear for her. There was no doubt this young man was little Sigrunn's older brother.

And from the beginning, he gave the impression he belonged somewhere else. He wore a long white linen tunic, brown pants and boots, and there was a long knife in the threaded sheath on his belt. Something was fastened to his back with another strap of leather and Sigrunn realized it was a bow and a set of arrows. A collection of fangs of different size and shade of white or yellow hung on a leather line around his neck. And beside this unusual necklace there was something more. A golden chain that held a golden ring with a rough green stone.

His face was angular, yet his features were cut very finely and softly. Apart from being considerably taller, he took after his mother, it was too obvious. His long hair fell in slight brown waves to his shoulders, the soft, dark eyebrows accentuated his fascinating eyes, two glittering orbs of amber. They were witty and deep, and overall honest with just a hint of certain sharpness, Sigrunn noted as they lingered a second on her, studying her to the very core.

"Oh, shut up!" Little Sig snapped at him. "And what are you doing here anyway? We haven't seen you in hours. Did you really have to come right now?"

"And just in time, I see." The boy replied calmly. His voice was soft, flowing like a melody. "I'd grab my favorite painting and get out of here before this shack catches on fire, dear lady." He suggested to the big Sigrunn.

The girl rolled her eyes theatrically and viewed the woman with compassion. "Please excuse my insolent brother, lady Sigrunn. He's just envious."

"Of what, waving hands and making valuables burn?" One doubtful eyebrow on the young lad's face went up.

"Repeat that to father!" The girl bit back, her eyes two narrow slits.

"Stop it at once!" Jane snapped at both of her children. "Can't you spare me your quarrels even here?"

"I'm not quarreling." The boy shrugged casually. "I was merely pointing out…"

"Quiet you!" Jane silenced her son abruptly. She knew better than to try and reason with him. It was just as pointless as with Loki. However, there was the familiar knot in her heart the next instant. As always when she was forced to be severe with her children.

The boy glared for a second, then turned slowly and paced away. And her heart sunk even lower.

"Where are you going again, young man?" Jane called after him. He slowed a bit, but did not stop.

"You haven't picked your picture." The older Sigrunn added all of a sudden. The boy halted and turned halfway.

"I wasn't aware I could." He said.

"Of course." The woman smiled. "You should know, young man, there's nothing more rewarding for an artist than to spread their work to the farthest places possible. I'll be glad to give you any painting you choose."

The lad watched her for a long, doubtful moment, and then walked back, his eyes fixated on the ground as he passed by his mother. Eventually, he looked up and viewed the walls, studying the pictures one by one, turning around and leaning forward here and there, everything only to stop before the very painting with reversed colors.

"I choose this one." He said then, crossing his arms.

"What?" his sister gasped.

"That's your choice. But may I ask why?" the older Sigrunn spoke softly.

"It has…" he tilted his head to one side, and then to the other, his arms still folded tightly in front of him. "…a very original touch." He explained then and darted a fleeting look at his sister.

The girl frowned wildly. "You're mocking me!" she accused.

"No, I really like it. The colors seem…" he paused, narrowing his amber eyes, "…strange. But interesting." He added, amused, and leaned forward to level his sister's eyes.

The latter's eyebrows were still wrinkled lightly. "Don't expect me to kiss you for that." She muttered.

Exchanging a knowing look with the older Sigrunn, Jane smiled, relieved, and rolled her eyes meaningfully.

"Okay." The older Sigrunn cleared her throat and reached out to take the incriminated picture from the wall. "Let me pack them for you, then." She said and glanced at the young lad. "That makes me wonder, there's still some cheesecake in my kitchen. And fresh tea. Would you like some?"

"Why, of course, good lady." He smiled in a surprisingly charming way.

Sigrunn let out a small laugh at that. "Then please, go ahead and make yourself at home. I'll be right there." She said as she stood the painting on the ground and against the wooden wall. Then she reached for the other picture. "Oh, and I must have missed your name, young man."

"My father named me after his brother Thor, our good King." He stated, his voice solemn but joyful, and bowed.

"Oh, I see. It… befits you." She answered and it was only then that Sigrunn realized who really the unusual visitors were. And she had treated them like any of her friends! Well, it was too late anyway, she thought then and grinned to herself as she turned for the last chosen painting.

"Wait!" The little Sig cried out and halted on their way out of the shack. "And what about father? We ought to take one painting for him, too!"

"And wouldn't it be unfair not to let him choose on his own?" Sigrunn pointed out.

"Maybe…" the girl wondered aloud.

"Then perhaps I should tell him to pay you a visit himself." Jane offered to the matter.

"Ah… Yes. Yes, I'd be honored." Sigrunn smiled, straightening and taking the three paintings with her. "I'll pack them now." She announced. "But then I would love to hear all the stories about how you got all the fangs around your neck." She winked at the boy.

"It'll be my pleasure to tell you." He said, smiling lightly, his eyes gleaming in the sunlight.

"He just played at elves in the forest." Little Sigrunn waved her hand dismissively.

"Cut it off, Sig." Jane warned.

"And isn't it true?" the girl opposed.

Their voices melted into the fresh breeze as they approached the house.

And the older Sigrunn smiled.

Yes, she had been expecting visitors on that wonderful summer day. But... just visitors. Not her dreams come true.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's it, dears! Did you like my OC's? ;)
> 
> I know I've left some questions. However, for my justification, I intend to return with a little tie-in one-shot here and there.
> 
> Thank you all for reading, liking and leaving nice comments. And as we are at the end, please feel free to express any remarks, comments, impressions and thoughts this little Lokane tale stirred up in you! There's nothing more important than feedback for an author, so know that any comment I read from you makes my day brighter :)
> 
> See you soon! :)


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